


checkmate

by hanjisungsslut



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Band, Banter, Bassist!Minho, Everyone Is Gay, Getting Together, Han Jisung | Han is Oblivious, Han Jisung | Han-centric, Humor, Lee Minho | Lee Know is Whipped, Light Angst, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Rivals to Friends to Lovers, Rivals to Lovers, Vulnerability, Vulnerability issues, band au, drummer!jisung, past hyunho, playful banter, theyre all stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:02:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 72,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24545860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanjisungsslut/pseuds/hanjisungsslut
Summary: [In Publishing Process]When aspiring drummer Han Jisung packs up and leaves his hometown to go to college, he doesn’t expect the perfect opportunity to fall right into his hands.A band in desperate need of a drummer reaches out to him and he couldn’t be more excited to join.Enter Lee Minho, the non-committal bassist who likes to play games with people. He sets his sights on Jisung, but what he doesn’t  know, is Jisung loves to play games.And Jisung is determined to beat Minho at his own game.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Hwang Hyunjin/Yang Jeongin | I.N, Kim Seungmin/Lee Felix
Comments: 121
Kudos: 776





	1. The Art of Misery

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! You may be wondering why I’ve been silent for some months. This is the reason! I introduce to you, the longest fic I have ever written. Please no negative comments as I worked very hard to publish this!
> 
> TW:  
> \- slight homophobia mention  
> \- drinking (they're of age!)  
> \- language  
> \- a panic attack in one scene
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoy this fic and if you want to know more about me or talk to me in general, you can find me on twitter under the username hanjisungsslut. Don’t let the name fool you, I am entirely SFW (despite some jokes). 
> 
> And if you all haven't yet, please remember to sign some petitions and donate if you can to the BLM movement if you can. 
> 
> Thanks!
> 
> \- Kenz!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy funky little Minsung!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! You may be wondering why I’ve been silent for some months. This is the reason! I introduce to you, the longest fic I have ever written. Please no negative comments as I worked very hard to publish this!
> 
> TW:  
> \- slight homophobia mention  
> \- drinking (they're of age!)   
> \- language  
> \- a panic attack in one scene
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoy this fic and if you want to know more about me or talk to me in general, you can find me on twitter under the username hanjisungsslut. Don’t let the name fool you, I am entirely SFW (despite some jokes). 
> 
> This is the process of being published but the company I’m working with seems to think I don’t have options so this is me being an ass about it. To your benefit! 
> 
> And if you all haven't yet, please remember to sign some petitions and donate if you can to the BLM movement if you can. 
> 
> Thanks!
> 
> \- Kenz!

The way Han Jisung saw it, life was like one giant chess game.

A variety of pieces laid out on one big board, each with specific functions and rules and an opponent who shared the same goal as you. A game of strategic calculations and a “bigger picture” vision, it was easy to get trapped and easy to waste time on.

The way Han Jisung saw it, life was a completed game of trust, strategy and long-run thinking. and he was barely moving his pieces. 

He couldn’t honestly say he had peaked in high school, and he honestly wasn’t sure how glad he was about that. It seemed many of his friends had peaked, going through the motions of the high school teens you see in movies. Jisung wasn’t there for those moments, though it wasn’t from lack of an invite.

He simply didn’t see himself with that crowd. That was his first move.

It didn’t bother him much, being the odd man out among his friends. Truthfully, he often questioned why he even bothered to call them that, but he had forfeited his search for the meaning of high school all together by that point.

Now, he was a freshman in college, and he no longer heard a word from those people. He didn’t try to keep in touch with them, didn’t like their tweets or fake a comment about how much he missed them on Instagram. Jisung just left, he vanished from the scene and instead of going to a local university where he would be among the majority of his high school graduating class, he followed the path less traveled, to a university hours away from home in a city he didn’t know.

Looking back, it was an impulsive decision and he definitely should have prepared months in advance before boarding that train. However, Jisung knew his hometown had given him all it could, and now he was onto a place that could give him something new. 

He’d made that decision roughly three months ago, moving into his dorm room with nothing more than a few boxes and a suitcase. His roommate was a nice guy, a kid named Hyunjoon who had an insane amount of friends for the amount of time he’d been there. 

Hyunjoon and his friends were nice to Jisung, one of them named Jacob always stopped by and offered to introduce him to the rest of the group, he insisted they would love to have him. Jisung always smiled and thanked him, but he declined every time. They were nice, much nicer than his “friends” from high school, but he still didn’t feel like he fit with them.

He didn’t expect to have as much free time as he did, and being cooped up in his dorm when the entire hallway was either out with friends or studying until they passed out was just downright sad. It was often that he would get up and leave as soon as the sun set, just to walk around the city and watch it burst to life.

There was music everywhere. People were dancing on the sidewalk, some for money but most just for fun. A little band of street performers passed by him, giving him a smile or a wave if they could. But the most intriguing part of the streets was the drum circle.

He had a drum set back home, one that his neighbor had given him around eighth grade when her son moved out. He'd beaten his sticks near to death by the time he graduated, but he never performed for anybody other than his parents.

Jisung loved the drums, he loved to play but his father never saw a career in it, so he never tried to make one out of it. He thought about it a lot, about joining a school marching band or even playing on the street for tips, but he brushed it aside most often. He didn’t even bring his sticks with him.

He watched the drum circle carefully, not noticing how a smile had blossomed on his face at their system. Each member of the circle stood out, their drumming styles varied from person to person. Jisung was in awe at the different yet somehow harmonious beats.

His face must have shown his interest, because one of the drummers looked up and caught his eye, and smiled at his fellow drum mates. 

He stood up, offering Jisung his sticks and gestured for him to sit in his place. Jisung gaped at the offer, feeling the eyes of the crowd on him. He had half a mind to shake his head and say no, but his fingers itched to hold a pair of sticks again. He took a deep breath, timidly taking the wooden sticks and sat down in front of one of the buckets.

The drummers all welcomed him with warm smiles, continuing their follow-the-leader type system. They went around the circle, each drummer tapping off a beat and the others following. They kept their own styles with it, and Jisung felt himself smiling again as he jumped in with them. 

It looped around to him, and suddenly he was met with dozens of pairs of eyes from both the drummers and the crowd surrounding them. He gulped and had to force himself to think. Carefully, he tapped off a steady measure of sixteenth notes, listening as the other drummers quickly jumped in and the beat formed. 

His face hurt from how hard he was grinning when the loop got back around to the first guy and Jisung turned around to hand the sticks back to the drummer. 

“You’ve got skill, kid. you live around here?” The drummer asked, letting the circle continue without him for a moment. Jisung’s hands still shook from excitement and adrenaline, but he forced himself to nod.

“I’m a college student. I’ve been here a few months.” He replied a little louder than necessary, but the drummer didn’t seem to mind. He smiled.

“Ah, a freshman then? How long have you been playing?” Jisung noticed the drummer tapped a beat with the beads of the sticks against his palms when he spoke, he seemed to do it subconsciously. It made his grin widen.

“About six years now. I haven’t really done anything like that before.” He said kind of shyly, watching the drummer grin at his reddening cheeks.

“What’s your name, kid?”

“Jisung. Han Jisung.”

“I’m Dowoon. Like I said, you’ve got talent. Swing by anytime and jump in, I’ll vouch for you.” The drummer—Dowoon—shook his hand, slipping the sticks into the pocket of his sweatshirt with another smile, before he ducked back into the circle and fell in with the others’ beat.

Jisung began backing out of the crowd, coming down from his high slightly and beginning to feel the amount of people around him again. He was okay with watching crowds, but being a part of one wasn’t really his thing.

Just as he started to continue his walk down the street, he felt a hand grab the sleeve of his sweatshirt and his heart leapt into his throat at the sudden tug. He spun around, meeting eyes with a guy a little taller than him with parted brown hair and dimples.

“Excuse me, I’m sorry to bother but you’re a really good drummer.” The boy released his arm, choosing to shove his hands in his pockets instead. 

“Thank you.” Jisung said, feeling a little uneasy in the situation.

“Seriously, your beats are really nice. Are you in a band or something?” The guy raised an eyebrow and for some reason, his kind eyes made Jisung want to trust him.

He laughed nervously. “Uh, no. I just play for myself mostly.” He scratched the back of his neck, not missing how the guy seemed to light up at this.

“Would you like to be in one?” He asked, a pearly white smile resting on his face. Jisung looked up, eyes wide and eyebrows pinched at the question. What the fuck?

“Sorry, that seems kind of off the wall, doesn’t it? My name is Bang Chan, I'm the lead singer for a band called Manic. We’re in desperate need of a drummer and despite our efforts, we can’t seem to find anybody who fits with us.” 

Jisung stared at the boy, trying to figure out if he was serious. When he was met with nothing but an honest gaze, he determined it was real. Jisung may practically never leave his dorm, but he’d heard Hyunjoon talk about a band pretty local and popular in the city who played at a coffee shop nearby. A lot of kids at their university knew about it and made an effort to go.

“Your band, do you guys perform at the Sweet Bean?” Jisung questioned. Once again, the boy lit up at the inquiry.

“Every Saturday! Have you heard of us?” Chan seemed very happy with the news that Jisung knew of his band, rocking back on his heels in anticipation.

“My roommate and his friends come watch you guys a lot. I’m kind of more of a homebody, so I haven’t been out to see for myself yet. He says you’re good though and I trust him.” Jisung tried not to make it sound awkward, but he winced as he gave his answer. Chan didn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

“How about you swing by Thursday afternoon around one? You can meet the members and play with us and if you like us and we like you, I’ll give you a call.” Chan fished out a small card from his jacket pocket, presenting it to Jisung.

The younger boy took it carefully, reading over the address on the card. It wasn’t too far from here and he didn’t have a class after his 8 a.m on Thursday.

Did he really want to be part of a band though? What if he wasn’t good enough? Oh man, what if he embarrassed himself in front of a group of professional musicians, he would never play the drums again. Jisung met Chan’s expectant gaze and sighed. 

Fuck it.

“Yeah, I can meet then.” 

Chan all but squealed, clapping his hands together loudly and beaming. He was rocking back on his heels again and Jisung couldn’t help but laugh at it.

“Great! I’ll make sure all the members are there and we can just do a super quick run through. Oh, what’s your name?” Chan was smiling ear-to-ear. Jisung laughed at the delayed question.

“It’s Jisung.”

“Great! See you Thursday, Jisung.”

Chan continued down the street, leaving Jisung standing with his business card in his hand. An audition. He had just agreed to audition for a band. What the hell was he thinking?

+++

Jisung did not think this through. 

Granted, he didn’t think most things through entirely and mainly ran on lack of impulse control and overpriced coffee but holy shit did he  _ really  _ not think this one through. 

The address had led him to a building a few blocks from where he’d joined the drum circle, it’s exterior looking very polished and clean. It didn’t stand out among the other buildings, being of average height and width, but the amount of floors it had still scared Jisung.

He’d called Chan an hour ago to make sure they still wanted him to come in. The brunet was much too excited to inform him that they still needed him and offered to stand at the elevators to escort him up to their studio. 

It was 12:56 p.m now and Jisung was ringing his hands together as he gazed up at the building. What if the members didn’t like him? He had bought brand new sticks at a music store 30 minutes away for this and he even styled his silver hair somewhat neatly.

If the members didn’t like him, he would have done all this for nothing. But honestly, what did he have to lose?

With a large and deep breath, he climbed the steps and stepped through the doors. The interior of the place was nice, with couches and velvet chairs against the wall in front of the desk. The elevators were on the other side of the room, but Chan spotted him immediately.

“Jisung!” He exclaimed, seemingly letting out a breath of relief, “you made it!” He threw his arms around his smaller frame, quickly dragging him to the elevators.

“I just got here myself. I haven’t told the others about you yet, but don’t worry, they’re gonna love you!” Chan talked a mile a minute while waiting for the elevators to open before ushering Jisung inside.

“Can I ask why the last drummer left?” Jisung found himself pulling on the ends of his shirt sleeve, trying not to show his nerves. He was fine. 

“He was younger than all of us and while he loved music, he wanted to pursue a career in singing more. We’re all on good terms.” Chan rattled off with a smile. Jisung let out a breath.

“That’s a relief. I’m glad you’re all still friendly.” He smiled genuinely and hoped it was reassuring. Chan beamed back at him and the elevator doors opened.

Chan led them down the hall, telling Jisung all about their first gig and how chaotic it was and the more he talked, the more it appealed to Jisung. This group sounded fun and he silently hoped they liked him enough to include him.

They came to a door at the end of the hall and Chan patted him on the shoulder before throwing it open. 

“Everybody, I have someone I’d like you all to meet!” Chan grabbed Jisung’s shoulder, pulling him in the room and presenting him like an art project. “This is Jisung, he’s a drummer.”

There were three other boys in the room. One with black hair sat at a computer desk on the left side, books and files surrounding his workspace. The one with dirty blond hair and violet tips was lounged in a chair in front of a panel and a glass window, resembling a puppy. The last one had strawberry blond hair and a round face, he was sitting on the couch against the right wall. 

Jisung waved awkwardly, meeting each of their eyes before saying, “Hello. I’m Jisung. As he said, I’m a drummer.” Chan moved from behind him, beginning to point at each boy. 

“That’s Allen,” he said with a finger pointed at the boy behind the desk, “he is our manager.”

Allen waved his hand, offering Jisung a small smile that was oddly comfortable for a stranger. “Nice to meet you.” He said. Jisung smiled back.

“That’s Seungmin, he’s on keyboard.” Chan pointed at the blond and purple haired kid, who raised his hand and gave a friendly “hey!” in response.

“Changbin is our lead guitarist.” The strawberry blond guy grinned and waved. 

“How’s it going?” He asked Jisung, leaning back a little further in his seat. 

“Ah, you know. Same panic, different disco.” Jisung is not sure why exactly that is the response his brain supplied him but it made them all chuckle and he was beginning to feel more confident around them.

“Annnnndddd where is Minho?” Chan shot an inquisitive look at Changbin and Seungmin, who both shrugged in reply.

“He’s running a little late,” Changbin said, checking his phone, “he said he’d tell us why when he got here.” 

“Oh great,” Seungmin rolled his eyes with a scoff, “another ear-full from that bastard.” Chan ignored Seungmin’s comment, turning to Jisung who was slightly confused. 

“Minho is our bass guitarist. He’s…” Chan trailed off, unsure of how to describe their bandmate. Seungmin did it for him.

“He’s a absolute menace and the sole reason we don’t have a new drummer yet.” 

Chan turned to shoot Seungmin a glare, while Changbin quietly chuckled under his breath. Jisung saw Allen silently nod in agreement, though he didn’t do anything to contribute.

“I wouldn’t say that—“ Chan began to grumble, only to be cut off by Changbin.

“You know it’s true.” The boy said, a strangely fond smile on his face.

“It might be true but I still wouldn’t say it.” Chan mumbles, his eyes darting to Jisung momentarily. Both boys stopped giggling at the reminder that Jisung was not yet familiar with their antics and would probably be worried at hearing this.

“It’s fine,” he assured them quickly, “I'm not easily scared off.” 

Seungmin raised his eyebrows curiously, sneaking a glance at Changbin who sported a similar expression. They smirked at one another, before focusing their eyes on Chan yet again.  _ “Where’d you find this one _ ?” their gazes seemed to ask.

Before Chan could begin to reply, the door to the room suddenly swung open and all eyes went to a blue-haired boy wearing all black. He was in tight ripped skinny jeans and a sleeveless black tank top with a band Jisung had never heard of on the front, his blue fringe falling over his forehead as he entered. He was, without a doubt, the most beautiful human Jisung had ever seen. 

“You will not believe the day I’ve had!” The boy exclaimed louder than necessary as soon as he entered, not even sparing Jisung a glance. He busied himself taking off his jacket and hanging it on the coat rack by the door.

“Here we go,” Seungmin didn’t try to hide his scoff, not even reacting when the boy's icy glare landed on him. That glare made Jisung shiver and he wasn’t even on the receiving end of it. 

“Quiet, bitch boy. I'm telling a story.” His words were harsh but they held hardly any bite as Seungmin rolled his eyes yet again.

“Aren’t you always.” He retorted, but settled back in his seat nonetheless.

“ _ Anyways,  _ you guys remember that tattoo artist I told you about?” The boy had his hands held out to his sides, like it emphasized his point.

“Yeah, the hot one you were dating?” Chan piped up. The blue-haired boy cringed at the word use.

“Dating is a very… exclusive term. We weren’t dating. So, I ordered some extra cleaning solution because my helix in my right ear has been acting kinda fuck-y and I went to pick it up and this  _ bitch  _ was holding my  _ pre-paid product  _ hostage to ask why I wasn’t texting him back!” The boy flung his hands out to the sides, letting them fall and hit his sides, “I almost went suburban white mom, “can I speak to the manager” on his ass!” 

A sigh rippled through the room.

“Why didn’t you just tell him you weren’t interested in a relationship?” Chan asked, running a hand down his face at his friend’s ridiculous problem.

“I did!” Blue Hair insisted, “I was very clear when we started messing around that this was a no attachments zone! It’s not my fault!” 

“Have you considered that maybe you led him on?” Changbin put his phone down on the couch to join the conversation. Blue Hair turned to him quickly, his face shocked that Changbin would even ask that.

“Blasphemy!” He claimed, “I did no such thing!”

“You do it all the time.” Seungmin joined in as well, his tone deadpan and seemingly uninterested. Jisung caught that little glint in his eye though, the one that said he was secretly enjoying this. 

“This is not “Be Mean to Minho Hours,” this is about me and my struggles as a hot person, you unsupportive trolls!” Blue Hair pointed at himself, his voice going an octave higher in protest of himself. He was dramatic, Jisung noted, but assuming.

“He’s just kidding, Minho, of course we support you. That’s why we’re asking these questions.” Chan tried to calm him down, to no avail.

“Speak for yourself, I’ve been trying to get this fool kicked out for years.” Changbin protested, chuckling when Minho's betrayed gaze landed on him. 

“And yet I’m still here.” He remarked, sticking his tongue out at the boy. Changbin didn’t say anything, just laughed.

“Binnie, behave.” Chan pleaded from the front of the room, looking only a few seconds away from burying his face in his hands.

“Yes, sir.” Changbin mock saluted, sending a wink to Jisung in the process.

“One more thing.” Minho spoke again, hand on his hip as he pointed at Jisung’s frame without looking at him, “Who is that?” 

Jisung opened his mouth to introduce himself, but Chan did it for him. “That’s Jisung.” He said, gesturing to the boy.

For the first time since he stepped in the room, Minho’s eyes fell on Jisung. He wasn’t shy about giving the boy a once-over and making Jisung feel like squirming under his eyes.

“Hey.” He said, sounding completely uninterested.

“Hey.” Jisung matched his tone.

Minho turned away from Jisung, looking at Chan again.

“Actually, one more thing.” He said, same sassy tone as before. “ _ Who  _ is he?”

“I invited him,” Chan said, clasping his hands together in front of him, “we need a new drummer.” 

Minho turned to Jisung again at the mention of their drummer situation. His eyes were gorgeous, despite their intensity.

“You play?” He asked, but it was less like a question and more like a challenge.  _ Cocky.  _ Jisung couldn’t help but think as he observed the boy. 

“Obviously.” He raised an eyebrow, throwing the challenge back. He wasn’t a pushover and this kid seemed to want to create tension. Jisung was more than okay with a little tension.

“You any good?” Minho asked, clicking his tongue as he turned to face Jisung fully. Jisung was no fool, he saw how the boy's eyes were glimmering with the excitement of having a challenger. 

“Obviously.” He replied again, drawing the word out. Minho quirked an eyebrow, taking a step toward him and Jisung was tempted to take one backwards, but he dug his heels into the ground. Chan was glancing nervously between them, but Jisung could see Seungmin on the edge of his seat.

“Your vocabulary extend past one-word answers?” Minho taunted, taking another step forward until he was in Jisung’s proximity. He saw Chan move to grab Minho but he answered before he did.

“Obviously,” He said much lower now that Minho was so close, “it does.” 

The room was feeling very hot as Minho pressed his tongue to his inner cheek, lips parting slightly while he regarded Jisung with a smirk. Jisung himself felt his mind go kind of blank staring the taller boy down.

“Well, let’s see whatcha got, Jison.” He replied in the same low tone Jisung used and broke their staring contest, making his way toward the booth.

“It’s Jisung.” He returned to his normal tone of voice.

“Whatever.” Minho commented without turning around. 

Chan put his hand on Jisung’s shoulder, bringing him out of whatever trance Minho had put him under. He worriedly glanced between Minho’s back and Jisung, praying that Jisung still wanted to join. 

“Minho is kinda an asshole—“ He started.

“I heard that!” Minho sounded offended from the booth as slung his guitar over his shoulder. Seungmin got up too, going toward his keyboard in the booth.

“You were meant to!” Chan mocked, rolling his eyes at his blue-haired friend.

“Is he always like that?” Jisung asked, not bothering to lower his voice as he asked. If Minho heard it, he heard it. It got a chuckle from Chan.

“Not once you get to know him. It’s a cliché thing to say, I know. He can be really nice or he can be…”

“Yo!” Minho stuck his head out of the booth, no longer seeming offended by the conversation. “As handsome and interesting as I am, we gonna gossip about me or are we gonna play?”

“Coming, your highness! Right away, your highness!” Chan retorted sarcastically, pulling Jisung toward the booth with him. Changbin stood up too, moving to enter the booth and grab his guitar.

“You’d better be, peasant. And give me a foot rub while you’re at it.” Minho stuck his tongue out, lightly kicking Chan in the shin while Jisung took his place behind the drum set. Changbin handed him a sheet of music notes and Jisung smiled a thanks as he read over it. 

“Do you know how to read music?” Minho asked, a light smirk playing on his lips, “Wait, let me guess. “Obviously”?”

Jisung forced a tight-lipped smile, ignoring the snickering boy and letting his eyes scan over the notes. This was simple. He could do this.

He nodded at Chan, who was waiting for his go ahead, and prepared his sticks. 

One, two, three, four…

+++

Being behind the drums was an indescribable feeling. 

The backbone and the rhythm were all set by whatever Jisung chose to do. The drums were one of the most important parts of a band and without them, there would be no stability. He controlled how they sounded to the most degree and though that position came with a lot of responsibility, Jisung loved it. 

The song Chan chose wasn’t difficult, most of the harder parts fell on the guitarists and Chan himself. He was slightly thankful for this, considering he was sight-reading everything and trying to make sure he hit the mark. He briefly wondered why they had trouble finding a drummer.

It was during the second chorus when Minho turned around, raising an eyebrow at Jisung in what the latter was sure was an attempt to psych him out, and he remembered why suddenly. Jisung met his eye for a second, just to spite him, and then returned his eyes to the sheet. He missed the way Minho smirked and Changbin’s grin that followed. 

The song was over before he knew it and he was proud to say he didn’t stumble once. His upper arms were sore though, but in a way that he could get used to. Chan turned around with a giant smile on his face, seemingly impressed with Jisung. Changbin and Seungmin shot him looks of approval as well. Minho was picking at the chipped polish of his fingernails.

The bassist looked up when he noticed the room staring at him, not bothered at all by the attention but perplexed as to what he did to gain it.

“What? Look guys I get it, I’m hot, but please keep the staring to a minimum.” He joked, though Jisung really could not tell the difference between his joking and his serious statements.

“We’re waiting for you to say something.” Seungmin deadpanned, not at all amused by Minho’s self-confidence. This time, the boy didn’t have a witty remark on his tongue. 

“Why?”

Changbin answered before anybody else. “Because you’re the picky one. I don’t want to hear about how we didn’t consult you later on.”

Minho scoffed, but he didn’t deny it. His eyes swept over Jisung yet again, confirming the younger’s suspicions that they were discussing him. “You’re decent.” Minho said, and that was surprisingly all he said.

“Jisung?” Chan said his name with pride. Jisung subconsciously dug his sweaty palms into the fabric of his jeans, silently hoping he did well enough to be considered for this band. He already felt strangely at home with these people.

“Yes?” His voice was a little hoarse and he absolutely resented the chuckle that bubbles out of the blue-haired man to his left. Maybe it would’ve been cute if he wasn’t laughing at him.

“Send me a copy of your schedule when you get home. We need to know when you’re available to practice.”

Jisung nodded, taking out his phone to make a note of it. The silence in the room was suspicious, all eyes still on him as if waiting for him to understand a joke that they all got. He met their gazes, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Then, it clicked.

“Wait,” he started shakily, somewhat afraid to assume wrong, “does that mean…” he trailed off, unsure of how exactly to ask the question.

“Yep.” Seungmin assured him, popping the “p” on the word, “welcome to the band, Jisung.” 

He bit his lip to hide the smile coming to his face, but he failed despite his efforts. Changbin came over to slap him on the back as a congratulations, Seungmin and Chan both beaming widely as he stood up and pocketed his sticks.

“I’ll also send you the sheet music for our songs. There’s only a few, it shouldn’t be too stressful.” Chan said as he patted his shoulder. Jisung nodded, handing back the sheet he’d borrowed.

Chan waved him off. “Keep it. It’s yours now.” 

Everyone exited the booth except for Jisung and the band’s bassist. He tried to leave as quickly as possible, gathering his coat and his phone that had been thrown aside. Minho slid his guitar pick in his pocket and turned toward Jisung before he could escape.

“Don’t fuck this up.” Was all he said before leaving the booth and those would’ve been fighting words if it wasn’t for the small grin on his face. God, this kid was weird.

In the same way that Jisung imagined life to be like a game of chess, he imagined whatever relationship he would have with Minho being the same. He would need strategy, calculations and a hell of a lot of luck to beat this guy.

“I’m going to bounce, got an appointment at the hair salon,” Minho announced to a room full of people who didn’t ask.

“Are you finally getting it re-dyed?” Changbin asked as he packed his bag too. Minho nodded, running his hands through slightly faded locks of sapphire.

“Figured it could use a touch-up before it turns green like last time. I’ve been thinking about getting a lip piercing too, I might see if I can do that today too.” 

Allen spun around, glaring. “No. No more facial piercings, Lee Minho.” When it seemed like Minho was going to protest, Allen shook a firm finger in his face. “I let you get that nose ring. Do not push it.” 

Minho’s face screwed up into a pout, but all he did in retaliation was lick Allen’s finger. The older boy shrieked in disgust, pulling hand sanitizer from his pockets and covering his hands. Minho was already out the door but the time Allen yelled at him.

“That is unsanitary, you fool! You’re going to end up sick and I will not feel sorry for you, you hear me!” He shouted down the hall after a skipping Minho, whose giggles could be heard from their studio.

He sighed. “That kid is going to kill me someday.”

+++

As promised, Chan sent over the sheet music by the time Jisung returned to his dorm. Hyunjoon was more than happy to see him, jumping up and telling Jisung all about his day and how “incredibly stupid” Eric managed to be.

“So, how was your day?” Hyunjoon let out a sigh as he finally finished his story and flopped down on the bed. Jisung shook his head at his roommate, pulling out his phone and looking at the groupchat Chan had added him to. 

“I...I kind of joined a band,” he said with a laugh.

+++

The band had a short setlist, around eight songs that they wanted Jisung to memorize. He spent an unnecessary amount of time on it, staring at the printed sheets in the morning as he got ready, on his way from class, to class, in his dorm before he went to sleep. He let Chan know that he wouldn’t be free until Saturday and luckily, that lined up with their schedules too.

Jisung woke up extra early on Saturday, taking time to pick out an outfit and style his hair. He took a bus over to the studio, the sheet music in a small folder he borrowed from the boy next door named San.

The hallways were a bit confusing without Chan there to guide him, but with some help from the janitor, he was able to find his way to the room. As soon as he opened the door, his ears were attacked with the deafening sound of somebody obnoxiously running their pick over the guitar strings as fast as possible.

Jisung looked and met eyes with an amused Lee Minho. His bewildered expression only made the man laugh harder, running his pick down the strings one last time before placing the guitar back on its stand. He was wearing yet another sleeveless tank top, this one white and simple, and similar black skinny jeans with chains on the side. His hair was freshly dyed and dark blue. He noticed that he did not have a lip piercing and was a little disappointed.

Minho flopped down on the couch, swinging his legs over one of the armrests and placing his head on the other. Changbin sat in the chair in front of the window, jotting down something in his notebook. Chan and Seungmin weren't here yet, Jisung figured he was a little early.

“No lip ring?” He teased, prepared for when Minho’s sparkling eyes snapped to his, looking like they held all the secrets of the universe and also like they knew all of Jisung’s thoughts.

“Figured a lip ring and a nose ring was little much for me, you know? Can’t be too hot or we’ll have a problem.” Minho replied, a cocky smirk on his face. Jisung was beginning to think that was his default expression.

“Uh huh. So, it has nothing to do with the fact that Allen told you no?”

Minho glared, but his face reverted back to cocky in a split second. Lee Minho was exactly like a game of chess, and Jisung had just moved his white knight to f3. 

“It’s cute that you think I was listening. You’ve got a lot to learn, rookie, especially about me.” Minho moved his dark pawn to f5. He was sly and confident and full of himself and he clearly didn’t think Jisung was up to his level. Jisung wasn’t even sure what the level was, but he was definitely up to it.

“Maybe so. But I like a challenge.” White pawn to d4. Minho raised an eyebrow, cocky smirk replaced by an equally arrogant grin.

“You think I’m a challenge? You haven’t seen nothing yet.” Dark knight to f6. 

“I’ll take my chances.” White pawn to c4. 

Changbin cleared his throat awkwardly, glancing between the two boys with pursed lips and eyebrows in his hairline. Jisung stepped back, pressing his back to the wall. Minho looked way too clever as he laid back down on the couch. 

“When are the others getting here?” Looking pointedly at Changbin, Jisung tried to ignore the weird tension in the room. He heard Minho snort, but he still refused to look at the other boy right now.

“Chan and Seungmin usually take the bus, they should be here in a few minutes. You can warm up if you want.” Changbin ran a hand through his hair, continuing to write frantically in his notebook.

“You wouldn’t be bothered?” Jisung gestured at the notebook in the older boy’s hand. Changbin opened his mouth to respond, but a certain somebody jumped in. 

“Bothered? By super loud banging and excessive clashing? No! Who would be bothered by that?”  _ He cannot handle not being the center of attention _ . Jisung mentally rolled his eyes. Dark pawn to e6.

“Because your obnoxious playing earlier wasn’t bothersome at all?” Jisung smiled innocently, watching to see if Minho’s smirk fell. White knight to c3.

It didn’t fall, in fact, Jisung was pretty sure it grew. Sigh. Dark bishop to b4.

“Obnoxious? So, you admit it got on your nerves?” Why did Minho seem like he was winning this argument when he asked that? It made Jisung both confused and irritated that he thought he won so easily.

“I think  _ you  _ get on everyone’s nerves.” Jisung shot back, purposefully not answering the question entirely. He was moving his white bishop. 

“He has a point.” Changbin interjected without looking up from his notebook, not bothering to break the two up now. Minho shot a look of fake betrayal at him.

“But do I get on  _ your _ nerves?” Minho blinked sweetly. The dark bishop was on the move as well. 

Jisung knew what Minho was doing, knew Minho wanted him to say yes. He couldn’t figure out why anyone would intentionally  _ want  _ to piss off a person they had just met, but it seemed Minho’s game was to make him confused.

“I think you’re the most annoying person I’ve met in a hot minute.” He replied, honestly, his white pawn jumping space. In the back of his mind, he could hear his subconscious screaming at him to stop the banter, that comments like this could get him kicked out of this band very easily. Minho, on the other hand, seemed to be  _ very  _ pleased with this answer.

“Then I’m doing my job correctly.” Minho chirped, and got up off the couch to annoy Changbin. Jisung spoke before he could leave.

“You didn’t let me finish.” Minho spun back around, fixing Jisung with an expectant stare and a quirked eyebrow. “You’re the most annoying person I’ve met in a hot minute, but you’re not the most annoying ever. You won’t break me. This is one game you’ll lose.”

Minho shifted, folding his arms over his chest and setting his jaw. His eyes glimmered with mischief, a challenge set in the darkest parts. 

“I don’t lose.” And he turned away. 

Deciding to leave it alone for now, Jisung moved into the booth to begin warming up. He closed the door behind him, hoping to minimize some of the banging, even if the petty part of him wanted to make it as loud as he could to spite the blue-haired boy just fifteen feet away and in eardrum-blowing distance.

Nevertheless, Jisung removed his sticks from his jacket along with his sheet music, and began to practice. He had earplugs in already, praying they would drown out some of the noise and take mercy on his sensitive ears. They helped a little but were massively uncomfortable in his ears.

He was so caught up in all his practicing, he didn’t even notice Chan and Seungmin had arrived and were now tapping on the glass while Changbin was using his legs to keep Minho at a distance.

“Sorry we were late, a bit of a traffic jam coming from our street.” Chan apologized, taking off his coat and hanging it on the rack. Changbin was kicking at Minho now, who was giggling while trying to avoid his legs.

“Same old shit, just a different day.” Seungmin mumbled, moving past Jisung to take his shoes off in the doorway and grab a binder labeled “Minnie.” Jisung chuckled. 

He hadn’t been around these people more than a combined half hour, (though every time he spoke to Minho, it felt like several hours), and yet he felt a sense of home with them, like he belonged among these people specifically.

Speaking of the devil, a particularly harsh kick to the ribs had Minho yelping and flying back, catching himself on the desk as he wheezed. Chan immediately asked if he was okay, concern painted across his features. Minho smiled.

“I’m going to go get some water.” His voice sounded hoarse, but he was still laughing underneath it as he brushed past Jisung. As soon as the door closed behind him, Chan turned to Changbin, who looked only somewhat guilty.

“In my defense, he was the one trying to test me. I regret nothing and I wholeheartedly believe the fucker deserved it.” 

Chan sighed, running his hand down his face as Seungmin snickered and entered the booth with his binder under his arm. Changbin was still writing in his notebook, choosing to ignore whatever lecture Chan was about to give him.

“Can you two behave for like five minutes at a time?” He turned towards Jisung now, “I wish I could tell you that it isn’t usually like this but that would be a lie.” 

Jisung laughed. “It’s cool. Minho is… definitely different, but it isn’t going to scare me off.” He flashed a megawatt smile at Chan, hoping to convince him with more than just his words. He meant what he said, he wasn’t one to give up easy.

“We get it, trust me. When he first joined, we could hardly tolerate him. In fact, we couldn’t stand him.” Changbin chuckled, looking oddly fond.

Seungmin poked his head out of the booth, a bewildered expression on his face. “I’m sorry, couldn’t? As in, past-tense? As in, you can stand him now?”

Laughter took the room at that. 

“If he’s so unbearable, then why did you keep him around?” Jisung asked in between giggles. A fond look crossed all of their faces as they thought back on it, each of them sporting their own little smiles. Chan was the one to answer.

“Minho was a pain in the ass and still is, don’t get me wrong. But sometimes, a person just… belongs. Minho is one of those. Once he fit his head through the door and warmed up to all of us, he became really fun and a good friend to have on your side. He’s different, a little strange, but he’s not a bad person.” 

Seungmin and Changbin nodded in agreement, looking unusually soft when talking about their bandmate. It brought a warm feeling to Jisung’s chest. He just hoped they could think of him in the same way one day.

+++

Minho burst back in the room only a few seconds after, ending their conversation abruptly as they all fell into silence. If Minho noticed anything weird, he didn’t point it out, jumping right into a rant about somebody taking too long at the water machine. Jisung snuck back into the booth to avoid any further encounters with the bassist. 

Seungmin was flipping through the binder he’d grabbed, the purple one with cute puppy doodles and plant drawings all over it. He barely spared Jisung a glance as he hooked up his keyboard, cracked his knuckles, and began running up and down scales.

Changbin came in after a few minutes, his notebook tucked under his arm, and picked up his guitar to warm up too. Chan and Minho came in last, both of them moving to their positions. 

Jisung really hated how the positioning had Minho closer to him than anyone else. Chan was in the center, with Changbin off to his right and Seungmin in the window of space between them. Jisung’s drum set was barely off center to the left with Minho on the far left and back more from the front than Changbin. Minho could pick out his mistakes way easier.

They jumped in pretty quickly, beginning to play one of their most popular songs called “Talk.” It had a heavy bass sound the entire song, leaving a lot of the work up to Minho and Jisung. Around the second chorus, everybody was really into it. Changbin was jumping around the room, getting back-to-back with a laughing Seungmin for his solo part. 

Over the music, Jisung could hear Minho’s loud laughs and found himself drawn to the sound over all the noise. Minho caught him staring and smirked, shooting him a quick wink. Jisung tried to keep his blush down, caught horribly off guard, and rolled his eyes.

The song ended quicker than any of them could think and they immediately jumped into the next on the list, a fast-paced song ironically called “Calm Down.” 

Jisung had spent a lot of time memorizing this one and he was still a little shaky on it. He got through most of the song without problems (if you don’t consider Minho’s excessive energy and arrogant enthusiasm to be a problem) (Jisung does), but when the bridge came up, Jisung found himself blanking on the beat for the kick drum.

He glanced down at the paper he had strategically left next to his feet. Only, it was too far away and his constant movement was making the notes hard to read. He stumbled slightly, missing a beat and a half on the kick drum, before regaining his composure and finishing the rest of the song.

Nobody said anything about his mishap when the song ended, but the look Minho threw over his shoulder, the raised eyebrows and subtly judgmental once-over, meant he’d definitely caught it.

They continued on to two more songs, “Get Out” and “Entrepreneur,” and Jisung played with so much vigor to make up for his mistake that he felt his t-shirt soaking with sweat. The others weren’t in much better condition, the guitarists especially looking equally as worn out. 

“Alright, everybody take five. I’ve gotta rest the vocal cords a little.” Chan announced, clapping his hands together and sending a bright smile to all of them. He shot an encouraging thumbs-up to Jisung and ducked out of the booth to where Allen now sat at the desk.

Changbin and Seungmin both exited too, Changbin informing them that he was going to “take a leak” and Seungmin flopping down on the couch in the studio. Yet again, it was just Minho and Jisung left in the booth. 

“Practice with a metronome, and practice at a slower tempo before building up.” Minho didn’t look at him as he talked, focused on tightening the strings on his instrument. Jisung looked up in surprise, mostly from the lack of malice in the boy’s voice. He sounded like he was actually trying to help. He suddenly felt embarrassed.

“Ah, yeah. Sorry, I’m still learning the technicalities.” He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. Minho looked him in the eye now, setting his guitar on its stand.

“A bassist relies on the drummer to set the beats and the rest of the band follows that. You are, arguably, the most important part of the sound.” Minho folded his arms over his chest, looking uncharacteristically serious.

“Are you saying I’m bad?” Jisung honestly was scared to know the answer to that question, but he figured it was a question worth asking. Minho seemed to think differently, lightly scoffing.

“If I thought you were bad, I would flat-out tell you you’re bad. I’m just letting you know the responsibility that comes with being a drummer. Split the parts up, it’ll make it easier to learn.” Minho left the booth, walking out to the couch in the studio and sitting directly on Seungmin’s legs. He started cooing at the person Seungmin was face-timing. 

Jisung went over that part of the song again, focusing on the kick drum especially and letting out a sigh of relief when he caught the beat again. He leaned back, taking out his phone and typing out a quick message to Hyunjoon, who was blowing up his phone with pictures of him and his friends. He didn’t even notice somebody coming up to him and peering over his shoulder.

“Aww, he’s cute!” Came from beside him and Jisung jumped at least three feet in the air. Chan was leaning over, giggling at Jisung’s reaction. The silver-haired boy calmed down, glaring at Chan without much heat. 

“Is he your boyfriend or something?” Chan asked, moving to take a sip of his water. Jisung internally cringed. 

“No. He’s my roommate. He just likes to send me pictures of him with his friends since I know them all.” Jisung felt eyes on him but didn’t dare turn to look. Chan hummed.

“That’s sweet. You’re a college freshman, right? So, he’s your dorm mate?” 

“Yeah. First day I moved in, he didn’t even say hi to me, just came up and sat down on my knee. I didn’t know what to do because he didn’t seem to realize he sat on an actual person. Then, his friends came rushing in and this one named Changmin was like “Oh, I found him guys” and that’s how I met my roommate and his friends.” 

A chorus of laughter followed his story, He noticed the others flowing back into the booth. 

“He sounds like fun.” Changbin commented, passing a water bottle to Jisung, who just now remembered his drenched shirt.

“He is. I’m not a very social person but Hyunjoon really tries to pull me out of my shell.” Yet again, he felt kind of embarrassed sharing that with them, but all he received was understanding nods. 

“That’s good. I hope this can be a way for you to branch out too.” Chan said it so casually, like he already considered Jisung a part of their little family and the gesture almost brought tears to the younger’s eyes.

Before he could reply, Seungmin turned to him. “So, Jisung, where did you learn to play drums?” This question seemed to be one everybody wanted to ask, because suddenly all eyes were on him. He swallowed.

“I just watched a lot of videos about it and then listened to music and tried to copy what the drummer was doing.” He shrugged, not thinking much of it. He didn’t have any connections to the drums beforehand, so he was mostly self-taught.

“You just copied what you heard? You were able to do that?” Changbin sounded baffled. Jisung nodded. 

“Woah. You are seriously impressive.” Seungmin breathed, leaning over to give Jisung a high five. 

When they were all ready to go, they jumped right back into it, running through the rest of their setlist. And when they worked on “Calm Down” again, Jisung made absolutely sure that he got the beat just perfect. 

+++

They practiced most days of the week, usually starting in the evening and ending late into the night. Chan had talked to the manager of Sweet Bean and they were set to play their gig there on Saturday. 

Jisung was nervous. He was more nervous than he had ever been. Hyunjoon had tried to reassure him, saying that he was going to be at the very back of the stage and covered in low lighting. It helped a little, but the thought still made his blood pressure spike.

Saturday came sooner than he’d hoped, and they’d all agreed to meet a few hours before the show for preparations. He sent a text to Hyunjoon before he left, receiving back a picture of him and Sunwoo giving him a thumbs-up.

Jisung chuckled before pocketing his phone and took a deep breath before entering the Sweet Bean. 

He found his way backstage, not surprised to see the others already there. They were all crowded around Seungmin’s phone. 

“You’re gonna kill it tonight! I’ll be there before the show starts, ready to embarrass you all!” An enthusiastic voice shouted from the phone. Minho noticed Jisung approaching first and then the others gradually spotted him.

“I know you will, Lix. Do you think you could bring that soup tonight? Chan won’t admit it, but one of our newer songs is taking a toll on his throat.” Seungmin continued talking to the screen, turning so Jisung could see a smiling blond on the other end of the call. The boy's voice did not match his face at all.

“Yep! Gotta take care of our Channie. Oh! And will I get to meet the new drummer tonight?” 

Jisung perked up at the mention of himself, ignoring the snort Minho letting out when he noticed. Seungmin threw a glance back at Jisung, smiling in apology.

“He heard you ask that, and yes I will introduce you two. I think the hair and makeup girls just got here so we’d better go. Love you, see you tonight.” Seungmin waved his goodbyes to the boy on the phone, putting it in his jacket pocket with a small grin. 

“That was Felix, he's my boyfriend. Sorry if he scared you, he’s just excited.” Seungmin quickly apologized to Jisung, who waved a reassuring hand and chuckled.

“It’s cool. You guys are cute, and I’d love to meet him.”

Seungmin sent him one last thankful smile, before he followed the girls beckoning at him frantically. Jisung tried to hold in his laughter when the girls both smacked him on each side of his head and scolded him for ignoring them. Chan chuckled too, going to meet his stylist at the van. 

Minho’s and Changbin’s stylists showed up too, escorting both of them to the makeup stations and talking frantically about their mornings. Jisung shifted his weight back and forth, a little uncomfortable suddenly.

“Are you Jisung?” A girl with blonde braids came up to him, makeup kit in her hand. He nodded, reaching out to shake her outstretched hand and letting out a sigh of relief.

“My name is Dahyun, I’ll be doing your makeup. That’s Sana,” she pointed at a girl with a soft pink ponytail, “she’ll handle hair. Come on, we've got work to do.” 

Dahyun and Sana wasted no time in sitting him down and getting started, both girls taking the opportunity to poke his cheeks. He startled, but relaxed quickly when he heard them giggling.

“I’m thinking we can let your hair do sort of a messy style. Do you think you could still play if your hair was down like this?” Sana pushed his hair to the front, letting it draped over his forehead and little above his eyes. He would be looking down a lot, so he figured he could play like this.

Sana squealed in excitement when he gave her a nod, hands immediately moving to his hair to determine the best approach. Dahyun chuckled lightly, examining his face in her hands. Jisung was really regretting not washing his face better this morning.

“Are there any makeup brands you’re against?” Dahyun asked, pulling her makeup kit open and laying out her supplies. Jisung shook his head and she nodded, making a grab for an eyebrow pencil.

“Any limits you’d like to set beforehand?” She was sorting through lipsticks, holding each one up to Jisung’s lips before nodding. When she saw his confused expression, she giggled.

“Seungmin usually tells Tzuyu to get things more natural looking. He only likes neutral colors and a little eyeliner. But for Minho, he tells Momo to go as wild as she wants to, that he’ll make any crazy combination she makes work.” Dahyun sent him an encouraging grin, reassuring him that she wasn’t there to judge him.

“I’m kind of in the middle of that, I guess. I don’t mind color but I also don’t want to resemble a clown.” He answered sheepishly, hoping to god that what he said makes any sense to the artist. An expert at her craft, Dahyun seemed to understand perfectly and began to prime his eyelids.

“Are you cool with glitter around your eyes?” She asked him after a few moments of silence. He hummed a yes and the quiet fell around them again. He hoped it wasn’t awkward. As insane as Jisung’s friends make him out to be, he really struggled connecting with new people. Dahyun and Sana didn’t seem to mind this much, neither doing anything to initiate conversation either.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, letting the two girls move his head back and forth while they worked and occasionally whispered to each other about things he didn’t understand the meanings of. He was pretty content with the feeling of makeup brushes on his cheeks.

“Alright! I think that looks good, what do you think?” Jisung opened his eyes when Dahyun started talking, being greeted with the image of both girls standing in front of him.

“Ooh, he looks good. I like the lip color a lot!” Sana patted Dahyun on the back in approval. Dahyun chuckled, reaching down and brushing some of the hair from his eyes. 

“Can I see?” He asked, rubbing his lips together a few times to get used to the sticky gloss feeling. Dahyun and Sana both stepped away from the mirror, allowing Jisung to lay eyes on his own appearance. 

His hair was parted slightly, but still left with a messy style, swept over the side of his forehead. His eyes were decorated with dark browns and greys, heavy eyeliner on his top and bottom line. A nude-pink coated his lips.

“Woah.” He breathed, staring at himself in the mirror as if he didn’t really believe it was his reflection looking back at him. Dahyun smiled, moving behind the chair to shake his shoulders and lean down to his ear.

“Hope you stick around, Jisung.” She whispered, before she and Sana grabbed their kits and headed to where a girl with black hair and bangs stood next to a girl with short brown hair. 

He blinked in surprise. Man, this band really must’ve gone through a few drummers. Jisung stood up, blinking in surprise yet again when he saw his own reflection. Only Minho and Chan were done so far and standing by the stairs to the stage. 

Chan’s eyes widened when he saw Jisung, the younger smiling shyly. Chan had pink blended into the corners of his eyes, his dark hair parted and sprayed down. Minho had his back turned to Jisung.

When he spun around, Jisung was almost knocked off his fucking feet. Minho’s blue hair, usually flopped over his forehead, was gelled back, only a few loose strands left to hang down. Black glitter coated his eyelids, blended nicely into greys. Blue winged eyeliner was resting just above his lash line. A small line of white liner was on his bottom waterline. He looked absolutely unreal. 

Jisung could hardly speak. 

“Wow,” Jisung said, quickly composing himself to sound less starstruck by the older, “Dahyun wasn’t kidding when she said you liked to go crazy.” 

Minho blinked several times, not showing a single ounce of emotion in his face as he bluntly stared at Jisung. Chan nudged him in the side and Minho stumbled a little, clearing his throat. When he registered what Jisung said, he smirked.

“ _ Somebody _ has to keep things interesting.” He shot a smile to Chan, who rolled his eyes but didn’t disagree.

“Yeah, I guess so. The blue was a nice choice, it suits you.” Jisung was awfully aware of how friendly this conversation was sounding and how out-of-character that was considering the banter he often shared with the older boy. 

Minho blinked again, clearly not expecting the compliment. “Thank you.” He said in the most sincere voice Jisung had heard out of him.

“Ah fuck, are we last again?” Changbin groaned when he walked up, Seungmin at his side. Both boys had lighter makeup on, nothing too crazy or different from what they usually wore. Seungmin’s hair was pulled down in the front and curled, Changbin’s swept to the sides and exposing some of his forehead.

“Yep! Who was last?” Chan grinned, sending Jisung a quick wink. The silver-haired boy was confused but watched Changbin sigh loudly and grumble under his breath.

“Me.” He dug out ten dollars from his pocket and began to hand it to Chan, but the oldest shook his head.

“I wasn’t first, Minho was.” 

Changbin glared as Minho brought his hands up to frame his face cutely. He gladly swiped the money from Changbin’s hand, shoving it in his pocket and doing a little victory dance. 

“Menace.” Changbin murmured, rolling his eyes when Minho draped his arm over his shoulder with an innocent smile.

“Not my fault you’re slow.” He sing-songed, tapping Changbin on the nose and sloppily kissing his cheek. The latter grimaced and pushed Minho’s face away, rubbing his cheek in disgust.

Sensing Jisung’s confusion, Chan turned to him, gesturing to the two bickering boys. “We have an ongoing game. Whoever finishes getting ready last has to pay ten dollars to whoever finishes first. It’s basically just us passing the same ten dollars around, though.” 

Jisung let out a solid “ohhh” and nodded. 

He looked at the time on his phone, noticing it was only about an hour before they performed. His heart sped up at the thought, his palms beginning to sweat. Allen came up from the main part of the coffee shop, offering ear pieces to anybody who didn’t already have theirs. Jisung noticed they all had custom ones.

They all began to warm up a little, trying not to be too loud even though they knew the crowd outside wouldn’t hear. Jisung was stretching his wrist when Allen poked his head in the door around 45 minutes later, telling them all to start getting ready to go on. 

Jisung took several deep breaths as they moved toward the stage entrance, shaking his hands by his sides to try and calm himself down. He knew he needed to go out first, right when the lights went down to take his seat, yet the thought of being first on stage terrified him. He felt breath on the back of his neck and then a voice right near his ear.

“Remember to pace yourself on Calm Down.” Minho said in a low voice. It wasn’t mocking or even slightly malicious. He nodded in response, gulping when the lights turned out and Minho shoved him forward.

He noticed a fairly large crowd had gathered as he made his way to the drumset. His eyes searched through all the faces, recognizing someone in the crowd that looked vaguely like the boy Seungmin had been talking to earlier. Finally, his eyes landed on Hyunjoon and Juyeon, who both shot him a thumbs-up and clapped along with the crowd.

Once they all took their positions, Jisung inhaled deeply and counted them off. 

+++

Back in the studio, where the worst thing Jisung had to fear was Minho’s occasional snide comments and analytical stares, he didn’t think anything could feel more freeing than sitting behind a drum set in a soundproof room, losing himself in the rhythm and the beats he played.

The moment he felt the lights come up, and hazy pinks, blues and purples washed over his frame and the frames of his bandmates, he was proven wrong. The crowd was cheering for them, cheering for  _ him,  _ and though he knew most of them were friends who had come simply to support their friends, for the first time he felt that he was truly on top of the world.

He played every song like he would never get to touch the drums again, every beat he made sounding just as powerful as the last and the next, and it felt amazing. There was something about being on stage, being the center of all attention that brought confidence among the anxiety. He was good at what he does, he knew this and the reactions he got from the crowd only fueled his energy more.

He focused less on the crowd though, and more on the way his bandmates seemed to get lost in the music they’d played a thousand times before, songs they/d grown tired of hearing and even more tired of playing, somehow regaining their youth and their shining qualities when they were performed on stage.

Jisung loved the studio. He loved the privacy of it and the way he was allowed to mess up as many times as he needed. But Jisung discovered he loved the stage more. He loved being able to feel the music coursing through his veins and the opportunity to showcase what he could really do.

He took Minho’s advice and paced himself a little better on Calm Down, finding it surprisingly easy to hit the beats on the correct timing this way. He saw Minho shoot him a large smile under the lights and he couldn’t say it didn’t make the feeling ten times better.

After a few songs, Chan introduced them and gave the instrumentalists a short break. He went down the line, allowing each one of them to introduce themselves to the crowd of people who definitely knew them. Being in the back, Jisung knew he was bound to go last and have an example to follow, but it still made his nerves jump.

The room was silent as his bandmates moved, giving him room to see the crowd clearly. There were more people here than before, probably having wandered in and stayed for either the food and caffeine or the music. It was hard to decipher which. But now that crowd of individuals was staring directly at him and waiting for him to speak. He caught Hyunjoon’s eye and found a bit of solace in the way his roommate smiled.

He had some trouble taking the mic off the stand, but he finally managed it after a few harsher tugs. “Uh…” Real smooth, Han. This was simple, just follow the other guys. Greet the crowd, say your name and instrument and then move on. He took a deep breath.

“Hey everybody, my name’s Jisung. I’m the drummer for Manic and I’m really glad to see all of your faces tonight!” He smiled really wide when the place erupted into cheering, the same thing they had done for the rest of the group, yet it still felt good.

Chan was trying to hide how he was proudly beaming and Jisung thought for a moment that perhaps Chan had grown attached to him already. He didn’t mind it at all, Jisung was kind of attached to the four of them as well.

The Australian continued on with his short speech, introducing their next few songs and allowing the instrumentalists to reposition their mics. They all nodded to let him know they were ready and he pointed at Jisung to tap them off. 

Even after all the tables were filled and stragglers were forced to stand, even after he caught his friends’ wonderfully awful dancing in the crowd, Jisung still didn’t break his stride for a second, allowing the feeling of pure adrenaline and freedom to take his body for just an hour that night.

+++

“That was one of the best shows we have ever fucking played!” Minho was buzzing with excitement, bouncing around with his bass still slung on his shoulder like it was weightless. They were all sweating, high on the rush the crowd had given them the entire show.

“It really was. I haven’t felt that good about a gig in forever.” Seungmin wiped a few drops of sweat off his eyebrow, careful to avoid wiping off any product. They spotted Allen near the van, ordering a few staff to help him load equipment in.

Chan had run to the bathrooms after stepping off stage, and left the others to return to their temporary dressing room to wind down. 

“It was.” Changbin hummed, then threw his arm around Jisung’s shoulders, “I think you're our good luck charm, Jisungie.” He pinched Jisung’s cheek in between his two fingers. 

“Ew, don’t call me that.” Jisung laughed, swatting away Changbin’s grabby fingers. He fell down on the couch, leaning back against the leather headrest. Changbin fell next to him, keeping a safe distance to avoid any cheek squishing.

“Aww, Sungie is cute. Look at how his cheeks puff out when he’s mad.” Minho laughed loudly, the vanity he was leaning on shaking with each vibration of his body. Seungmin giggled too, lightly slapping Minho's shoulder. 

Jisung pouted. “My cheeks do not puff out.” He was deathly aware that they do, in fact, puff out and that they were,  _ in fact,  _ puffing out right now. It made Minho laugh harder.

“Look at you! You look like a squirrel! Sungie looks like a squirrel!” The room all collectively laughed at this realization and even Jisung couldn’t be mad about it. It was true, he looked like a squirrel. The laughter in the room brought a smile to his face as well. He could get used to this.

As the laughter died down, there was a knock at the door and Seungmin immediately went to open it. Arms were thrown over his shoulders in a flash, enveloping him in a big hug.

“Minnie!” A deep voice shouted, clinging to the keyboardist. Seungmin laughed, hugging back just as tight. 

“Hey Lix.” The person pulled away and Jisung recognized him as the boy Seungmin was talking to on the phone. Seungmin’s  _ boyfriend.  _ He was blond and had a trail of freckles across his nose and cheeks. His smile was bright, the brightest thing about him. 

His eyes immediately found Jisung and he was suddenly shoving a bag in Seungmin’s hands and rushing over to the couch. 

“Hi! You must be the new drummer! My name is Felix, I’m Minnie’s boyfriend. You’re really good, I was on the right side of the stage the whole time and you can really play.” Felix had settled in front of the couch, a radiant smile on his face and big doe eyes staring into Jisung’s very being.

Jisung wasn’t great around new people, he was awkward and never knew what to say to them, but this was Seungmin’s  _ boyfriend  _ and he needed  _ Seungmin  _ to like him so he could stick around. Jisung smiled and offered his hand. The blond took it happily in his own tiny hand and shook it with a vigor Jisung wasn’t expecting.

“I’m Jisung. Thanks for um...saying I'm good.” He replied somewhat self-consciously, but Felix didn’t seem to mind. The blond’s smile grew bigger and he rested his hands on his knees.

“Are you kidding? You’re amazing, I’ve never seen someone who can outshine Minho, but you managed it.” Felix was beaming so widely at Jisung, he didn’t even notice the look of utter shock on Minho’s face.

“I did  _ not  _ get outshined.” Minho protested with a scoff, like the idea of Jisung being on the same level as him was preposterous. Jisung found it sort of funny, how deep the little comment seemed to cut. 

Felix hummed. “You kind of did, I mean Hyunjin even said he’d never seen anybody look hotter while standing next to you.” Felix turned to Jisung, shooting him a cheeky wink. The latter felt his cheeks coloring. They heard Minho gasp.

“Where is that son of a bitch? I’m going to kill him.” Minho said, jokingly. At least, Jisung was pretty sure he was joking. Honestly, Minho was a wild card and he could never be too sure.

“He left earlier,” Felix said with a laugh, “right after the show ended. Jeongin has a doctor's appointment tomorrow for his ankle, and Hyunjin wanted to make sure he got enough rest.”

“Oh yeah, how is he? I haven’t talked to him in a few days.” Seungmin chimed in. He was setting the contents of the bag Felix threw at him on the table, opening one of the containers with an “S” that was decorated with hoodies and puppies.

Felix turned his attention to his boyfriend. “He’s doing alright! After he gets the cast off tomorrow, he’ll be a new man.” 

“New boy, more like.” Minho corrected, reaching over and taking a bite out of Seungmin’s food. The youngest glared and swatted his hand away.

“Don’t be mean, Minho. Let us not forget the bear incident.” Changbin grinned evilly at Minho’s horrified expression. Felix high-fived him.

“Don’t you dare.” Minho growled.

“Jisung,” Changbin suddenly turned toward him, “about a year ago when the band was all stressed out over labels and such, we went to the zoo to try and spend a free day having some fun. Minho dropped his hat in the bear enclosure and instead of alerting the staff, tried to climb in before the bear started charging at him. He shrieked like a little girl and tried to climb back over but—“

“Changbin.” Minho warned.

“—but his pants zipper was stuck on the fence. He kept babbling about how he couldn’t  _ believe  _ this was how he died, before the staff came over and distracted the bear so he could get unhooked and come back in. We’re still banned from the zoo.”

The boys laughed, recalling the memory. Minho's face was tomato red, his hands covering his rosy cheeks and massaging his temples.

Chan poked his head into the room at that moment, and Jisung didn’t miss the grin on his face when he heard them all laughing together. They were all still giggling when Chan took the center of the room, a folded card in his hand.

“Whatcha got there, Channie?” Changbin asked, taking a large sip of his water. 

“I met a guy on the way back here. He’s from a concert venue on the east side of the city. He wants us to play a gig there next Saturday.” 

Changbin spit out his water.

“He wants us to host a concert? We hardly have a fan base.” Seungmin sounded out-of-breath, he couldn't believe his ears. Chan just nodded, passing the card around for them to see. 

“Allen said he’ll handle that. I think they're going to hand out flyers or something.” Chan let the card go through all the members, and Felix, before taking it back and placing it in his pocket.

The venue was huge. No doubt, the crowd would be bigger than the one at the coffee shop. What if not enough people showed up? What if no one showed up at all? Even worse, what if they decided Jisung wasn’t a good fit and he wasn’t even a part of the universal “we?”

All his thoughts came to a halt when a body plopped in between him and Changbin. He startled, turning to see Minho grinning at him. The couch offered hardly any room for the blue-haired boy to sit comfortably, which meant he was sitting on both their laps, practically. 

“Look at us! We’re moving on up the ladder of success! Soon, our name will be in lights!” He had stars in his eyes when he slung an arm around each of their shoulders. Jisung was stunned by how the boy seemed to warm-up to him suddenly.

“Unhand me, you filthy bastard.” Changbin punched at Minho’s hand, which was death-gripping his shoulder. Minho untangled himself from Jisung to fight with Changbin, it only ended in them wrestling to the floor.

Chan chuckled as the two bickered and fought like siblings.

“Children,” he said to a room of fully grown men, “what am I going to do with you all.”

+++

Allen promised them there would be a big turnout at their show on Saturday. He pushed them all through the week to work harder, to challenge themselves and play louder, clearer and better than they ever had. Jisung wasn’t one to crack under pressure, he could handle this.

All through the week, the rest of the band seemed to have a similar mindset as he did. They hardly spoke or joked about anything not related to the music and Changbin presented his notebook to Chan the morning after their show at the Sweet Bean. He’d written a new song and Chan decided it was just what they needed to spice up their show this week.

The stress and nerves were certainly getting to them. They worked overtime, often leaving later than usual or coming in way too early to work. Jisung skipped an entire day's worth of classes to practice.

Their new song, called “Fool,” was a fast paced, upbeat song that had a break toward the end for a guitar solo. Changbin freestyled it every time during practice, choosing to just read the room the night of the performance. It made Jisung anxious, but he also didn’t know how to fix it.

Shockingly, the quietest of all of them was Minho. All week, he had wordlessly headed straight for the booth the minute he arrived, the others wouldn’t take more than a minute to follow him. Chan kept asking if he was okay, and every time, Minho would assure the singer that he was fine and just wanted to practice. He sounded normal when he spoke, but Jisung noticed the missing light-hearted lift his voice usually kept.

Now, it was Friday night and Jisung had told Chan he would stay behind a little while longer to work on his parts. Allen stayed with him for another hour or so, but eventually, he left too. Jisung wasn’t sure how long he spent rotating between his drumset and the couch in the studio. He needed to memorize these beats before tomorrow night.

He lost track of time long ago, but knew it had been several hours since the others had gone home for the night. Still, he sat on the burnt-orange leather of the couch and stared at the notes on the music sheet. He was halfway through reading over the music for the 26th time when he heard the studio door open.

There before him, stood a very obviously sleep-deprived Lee Minho. 

“What are you doing here?” Minho blinked as he stared at Jisungs frame, his one leg thrown over the armrest and the other over the back of the couch. He didn’t sound accusatory, just tired.

“...Memorizing…? I need to be absolutely sure I know the beats for Fool. So, I’m here. What are  _ you  _ doing here?” Jisung took in Minho's state. Graphic band tees and distressed jeans were replaced with gray sweats and a blue hoodie. His normal cocky demeanor was there, but the bags under his eyes showed that he wasn’t really feeling it.

“Oh.” He blinked again at Jisung’s question, “Nothing. I just think I forgot something in the booth.” He didn’t say anything else, just brushed past Jisung and entered the room. Jisung wasn’t stupid, he knew Minho was here to practice, because deep down, he was nervous too. 

“If you want to practice, it’s fine. I can turn the mics off and shut the door.” Jisung tried to make his voice sound nonchalant. Minho ducked back out of the booth, standing in the doorway. 

“Are you saying my playing is bad, Han?” Jisung was surprised by how quickly Minho’s voice regained his usual cocky lift. When had Minho learned his family name?

“Does that sound like what I’m saying?” Jisung scoffed, pretending he still wasn’t intrigued in the conversation. He heard shuffling, and suddenly Minho was standing in front of the couch, knowing smirk on his lips.

“Well, I’m asking, so clearly that’s what it sounds like you’re saying.” 

Jisung rolled his eyes, looking back down at his music sheets. “You’re annoying.” He remarked, fully aware of what Minho was doing. The slyness of this asshole.

“And you’re avoiding the question.” He sing-songed, rocking back on his heels. Jisung got the impression he wasn’t leaving until he got what he wanted.

“You just want me to compliment you.” He shot back, flipping through the sheets absentmindedly. 

“Ooh. You got me there. So, let’s hear it; is my playing bad?” 

Jisung finally looked up to meet Minho's eyes, sparkling with mischief and arrogance. He had a tight-lipped smile on and raised eyebrows, like he knew Jisung couldn’t squirm out of this. Jisung didn’t know what this feeling coursing through his body was, but he was pretty sure he wanted to wipe the smirk off Minho's face one way or another. Yet, he was stuck.

“No, Minho, your playing is wonderful. Truly groundbreaking. Does that suffice?” He put on his best fake smile, sarcastically complimenting the other boy the way he wanted. Minho hummed.

“I don’t know. Seems a little fabricated to me.” Oh, he was  _ so  _ going to get punched.

“Like I said,” Jisung groaned, letting his head hit the armrest, “annoying.” 

Minho giggled, stuffing his hands in his hoodie pockets. “You like it though.” 

Jisung’s heart rate suddenly sped up. Did Minho just imply that Jisung… liked him? He avoided looking at the elder, knowing his face would turn the color of the couch below him and he would never hear the end of it. What did that even mean? Did Minho know something Jisung didn’t? Did he perhaps know why Jisung felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest?

“...Do I?” Jisung found it in himself to reply, knowing it was better to say  _ something  _ rather than nothing. It came out stronger than he thought it would, showing no indication of his internal struggle. 

“I think you do.” There it was. That stupid sing-songy voice again. Minho was irritating on a level that a person shouldn’t even  _ be  _ able to irritate on. It was driving Jisung insane.

“I think you’re delusional.” The silver-haired boy threw back, trying not to clutch his sheet music too hard and show his inner-battle. How had Minho managed to spin this situation and get the upper-hand? 

“Hm, maybe so.” Minho chuckled, “It  _ is  _ four in the morning. You should get some rest.” 

Jisung found himself rolling his eyes and clicking his tongue again. “You’re up, too.” 

“And I am going home right now to go to bed.” Minho pulled the sheet music from Jisung’s lap, laying it to the side and offering his hand in replacement, “Come on, you’re not staying here all night.”

“Minho—“

“No buts! I will  _ not  _ have you tired and beating your own hands instead of the drums at the gig because your vision gave out from lack of rest.” Minho grabbed Jisung’s wrist, pulling him up from the couch in one go.

“Is that even possible, you drama queen?” Jisung groaned when Minho began to drag him out of the studio, his half-asleep legs putting up a protest the entire way. 

“I read it in a book one time, Han. Everyone knows fiction is based on reality.” Minho chirped, his iron grip on Jisung’s wrist pulling them into the elevator.

“I don’t think that’s how that works.” Jisung mumbled, still vaguely aware of how Minho didn’t let go yet and didn’t seem to plan on it.

“Nonsense.”

+++

Jisung woke up the next day at one in the afternoon. His back hurt a little and so did his head. The sun was shining bright outside and Jisung figured it had something to do with why he felt so disoriented. Hyunjoon was sitting on his bed across from him, earbuds in and typing on his laptop.

Jisung let out a long groan and Hyunjoon jumped. “Jesus! You scared me.” His roommate gasped, hand over his heart. “Finally, you’re awake. I thought you might sleep through your gig tonight.”

Jisung groaned again, burying his face into his pillow. The gig was in a few hours and he had to leave the dorm in less than two and a half hours. He felt his back being hit repeatedly, locking eyes with Hyunjoon when he woke up, who was beating him with a pillow.

“I’m up! I’m up.” He swatted at him, slapping the pillow back a few times before he stopped hitting him. Hyunjoon looked deep in thought for a moment before he spoke.

“You got home  _ late  _ last night. Were you at the studio?” He began rummaging through their shared closet. Jisung hummed as an answer, sitting up in his bed and letting silver hair fall into his eyes.

“Ah. You were babbling an awful lot about somebody sending you home.” Hyunjoon commented with a smirk. Jisung suddenly recalled the events of last night. 

Minho had dragged him into the elevator and insisted that Jisung could hurt himself if he didn’t get enough sleep. He didn’t let go of Jisung’s wrist until they were outside on the concrete in front of the building, and Jisung was partly sure that was only because he needed to use his phone.

“Are taxis even still running at this hour?” He found himself asking, eyes roaming up and down the vacant streets. 

“Of course. They’re always running.” Minho shrugged, but Jisung could tell he wasn’t sure about that either. He wanted to call him out on it, but decided that four in the morning on a deserted street was not a place he wanted to be alone.

Luckily, Minho was correct and a taxi rounded the corner only minutes later, stopping right in front of the two boys. Minho opened the door and deep down, Jisung was already fearing being left alone on the pavement. But then, Minho was stepping back and gesturing for Jisung to climb in. 

“You—“

“Jisung, if you fight me on this, I will literally tie you to the back of the taxi and you will go home the hard way.” Minho gestured for him to climb in once again. Rather than fight with him, Jisung rolled his eyes and sat down in the taxi. He was about to make room for the older when the door shut behind him. 

Jisung rolled down the window and Minho moved to the passenger side, handing the driver money and telling him the location of Jisung’s college campus.

“You didn’t have to do that, I could have gone home on my own, you know.” Jisung decided to be snarky for the hell of it, but secretly, he felt bad that Minho just paid his cab fare.

“Riiight,” Minho quirked an eyebrow, wearing a smile as he folded his arms on top of the taxi and rested his forehead on them. His face was way closer to Jisung’s than it had to be. “let me guess? You were  _ just  _ about to head home before I showed up? Is that what you’re going to tell me?”

Jisung didn’t want to play into his hands, but that was very obviously the story he was trying to sell, so he ran with it. “Yep! Literally, it was just a matter of decent timing.” 

Minho chuckled, sounding more like an amused scoff than anything else. “You’re a liar,” he whispered, looking very fond, “and a terrible one at that.”

Jisung didn’t respond, didn’t know what  _ to _ respond. Once again, Minho flipped the situation around and had Jisung grasping for words to say. Once again, Minho had come out on top and he planned to stay there. 

“Thank you.” Jisung said, partly because it was the only thing he could say and partly because he genuinely felt bad about the fare. 

“I didn’t do it for you, I did it for the band. Where would we be if our drummer was sick? Obviously.” He scoffed and turned his head, but the way his eyes cut back to Jisung and his lips lifted at the corners disproved everything he’d just said. He’d never admit to it though, and Jisung knew that. 

“Still.” He sighed, and then his mouth was moving before his brain could catch up, “You could catch a ride with me, you know? I don’t bite.”

He wasn’t sure why he was suggesting it. Minho wasn’t exactly what he would call a friend, at least not yet. But for some odd reason, Jisung really didn’t want the interaction to end yet. 

“My apartment is on the other side of town from your campus, Sung. Don’t worry, I called another cab to take me home when I called yours.” As if on cue, another taxi turned onto their street and headed their way. “But it’s cute that you’re worried about me.”

“I am not—“

“Good night, Sungie.” Minho tapped the hood of the taxi and the driver started the car. Jisung glared, knowing damn well Minho had just gotten the last word and he couldn’t help but think maybe he’d planned it from the beginning. How did he always seem one step ahead?

Just like a game of chess, every time Jisung moved his pieces, Minho countered. Dark knight to e4, white knight to e4, dark pawn to e4. Each of Minho’s moves were calculated, he knew when Jisung planned to strike and he had a plan to counter it, and everytime, it worked in his favor.

“So, which one is it?” Hyunjoon’s voice reminded Jisung that his meeting with Minho was hours ago. He looked up to see his roommate laying out assortments of black clothing, rummaging through several piles. 

“Huh?” He asked dumbly, unsure of if he’d missed part of the conversation during his flashback. Hyunjoon just smirked.

“Which of your bandmates has you looking like a teenage girl?” Hyunjoon asked so innocently that Jisung almost didn’t register the question, but when he did, he sputtered. This only made Hyunjoon laugh.

“It’s blue hair, isn't it? The bassist?” Now, there was no reason for Hyunjoon to know that. “He seems your type. He was glancing at you a lot during your performance last week.” 

Hyunjoon spoke so absentmindedly, like he had no clue what he was doing, but the little glint in his eye told Jisung something else. This sly asshole.

“Minho was not looking at me.” Jisung brought his cover up to his chest, hoping to subtly shield his cheeks that were quickly beginning to resemble tomatoes. 

“Minho, huh? Well, now there’s a name to the face. And you probably didn’t realize it because you were up there banging the drums like it was life or death. You’re really great at that, by the way.” Hyunjoon finally stopped his shuffling and held up a few items of clothing.

There was a loose black top that looked sort of silky, with rips down the arms and in the back. A pair of black leather pants with the knees cut out that Jisung recognized from his own closet. Combat boots, a belt, and—

“Fishnets?” Jisung looked at his roommate, completely unamused. 

Hyunjoon threw the outfit at him, ushering him out of bed and into the hallway as he scrambled with the items in hand. 

“Go take a shower and change into this, I want to make sure the outfit is perfect before your gig tonight.”

“Wait, Hyunjoon—“ The door slammed in his face before he could protest. 

+++

Jisung hated to admit it, he really  _ really  _ did, but the outfit Hyunjoon picked out was working very well. The silky fabric in the shirt tucked behind the belt of the pants looked really nice and the all-black look was drawing attention to his hair color. He hated it, because Hyunjoon had been right.

Damn him.

When Jisung walked back in after his shower, Hyunjoon was practically waiting by the door. He pretended to be busy, mindlessly hitting random keys on his laptop and jotting down “notes” which were actually poorly doodled flowers and dinosaurs. When he finally spotted his roommate in the doorway, a gasp left his mouth.

“Dude.” He said, in perhaps the deepest voice Jisung had ever heard out of him, “Duuude. I’m a fucking god at this.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Your outfit works.” He brushed it off with a shrug of his shoulders but he knew Hyunjoon could sense his casualness was fabricated. He looked good, it was obvious, but he could not tell Hyunjoon that.

“Sangyeon and Hyunjae are coming tonight, I have successfully dragged them out of the dorms.” Hyunjoon beamed proudly.

“You haven’t dragged them out yet, the show isn’t for another five hours.” Jisung raised an eyebrow at his friend's antics. Hyunjoon waved a dismissive hand.

“Minor details. They’ll be there, whether they want to be or not.” 

Jisung laughed, but he knew the truth behind that statement. Hyunjoon was persistent when he wanted something, and Jisung often had to make up a lie or two to avoid the boy's tenacity. 

If Hyunjoon was forcing along two friends that haven’t left home in days, Jisung had better make it a good show.

+++

He left the dorm around four, his face bare and hair uncombed. Hair and makeup was not Hyunjoon’s job, as his roommate had put it. That was fine, he’d have to take it off for Dahyun and Sana anyway. 

Jisung almost missed the subway there, and he breathed a sigh of relief when he ducked into the car last minute. 

Now, he stood outside the venue. It was a large building despite being small for a concert venue. He had to pass through three levels of authorization before the staff let him in and led him to the back, where the other members were all laying around in the dressing room. 

“Ah, Sung! Glad you made it.” Chan clapped him on the back when he entered, looking very soft with his untamed hair. Jisung noticed Felix in the room and gave the blond a smile, which he happily returned. 

“The girls will be here any minute. We should probably rehearse now that the slow-poke is here.” Minho piped up, sliding off the couch and playfully bumping Jisung’s shoulder as he left the room. He knew it was playful, because of the evil smirk on Minho’s face. 

What a dude.

“He’s right, but I’ll never admit it to his face.” Changbin slid his phone into one of the drawers and grabbed his guitar. The others all followed suit except Felix, who was munching away on goldfish and chips. Jisung would never say it out loud either, but he was glad Minho suggested some rehearsal time. 

He didn’t miss a beat the entire way through, keeping in mind the pointers Minho had shown him. He was surprisingly less nervous than he had been before their Sweet Bean performance, and the thought scared him a little.

The girls arrived sooner than later, and Allen came on stage to shoo the boys away to their makeup stations. Dahyun and Sana were talking quietly when he approached, and saw both their eyes widen when they realized who he was.

“Jisung! You’re back!” Dahyun sounded shocked. She reached out to touch Jisung’s face, gasping when the tip of her finger made contact with the squish of his cheek. Sana looked equally surprised, but delighted to have him back.

“Yeah, I am,” He laughed kind of nervously, “so, thoughts for today?” He vaguely gestured at his outfit and Dahyun blinked a few more times before swiping her eyes over the style. She smirked.

“I know just the look.”

+++

Dahyun was funny. She cracked jokes and scolded Jisung when he laughed too hard before his eyeshadow was done. She told stories of the members, and all the “horrible bastards” that had come through Jisung’s position before him. He was glad that she was warming up to him, at the least she certainly didn’t consider him to be one of those bastards.

Sana was a lot more lively too, giggling a little louder and messing with his hair more. She talked about the other girls doing makeup and hair, and how they operated like a team but sometimes acted like sisters. She even mentioned a name Jisung was sure he’d heard somewhere before. Jeongin.

Jisung did all he could to joke back and laugh when Dahyun didn’t have a sharp tool near his eye. The girls seemed a lot friendlier this time, and Jisung thought back to their faces when he’d first walked up. Clearly, they hadn’t expected him back. 

He was half-tempted to ask about the old drummer, what the big deal was in him leaving, but decided against it. He didn’t have any business in that, and he didn’t need to give these girls any reason to dislike him. 

Dahyun gave him another smokey look, but embedded white lines around his eyes for depth. A red tint was spread across his lips, much more sticky than last time. Sana slicked his hair back on one side, parting it on the other and allowing his forehead free. It’d been a while since he’d styled his hair out of his face.

He luckily wasn’t the last one to finish, letting out a breath of relief when he met only Seungmin and Minho at the stage door. They were bickering as usual, about what kind of cheese was better.

“Jisung, what's your favorite cheese?” Minho pointed a finger at him when he walked up, sounding oddly serious about this discussion. Seungmin’s lax shoulders and bored expression showed that he was not nearly as into it. 

“Uhm. Cream cheese?” 

The sound of Minho’s palm slapping against his forehead echoed. Seungmin tried to hide his laughs, to no avail as he suddenly burst out into a series of them. He could feel his face burning.

“What? Was that not the answer you were looking for?” Jisung teased. He was hoping to divert the situation from his embarrassment.

“No!” Minho exclaimed, careful not to run his hand down his face. “Cheese is disgusting and absolutely vile. I can't do this.” 

The blue haired boy turned his back to them, facing the wall instead. Jisung was about to say whatever snarky comment appeared in his mind, but stopped when Seungmin smirked and raised a finger to his lips. He raised his left hand and started counting down from five, and just as he got to zero, Minho spun around.

“Cream cheese?!” 

And Seungmin exploded in laughter.

+++

In the end, Chan was the last to finish, and he grumbled under his breath as he handed the bill to a smug Seungmin. He got an earful about it from Minho, but that wasn’t anything new. They got an earful from Minho anytime somebody breathed. Or didn’t, for that matter.

Soon enough, it was time to perform and although Jisung hadn’t been feeling the nerves all day, he was certainly feeling them now. This was their first real gig, people had paid to come here. Granted, it probably wasn’t much and the stadium probably wasn’t even half full, but they still gave up  _ money _ to see  _ them.  _ Hell, he wasn’t even the official drummer yet!

Jisung’s internal fight was sensed by none other than the devil himself, who placed a comforting hand on Jisung’s shoulder. At least, he thought it was comforting. Jisung was slowly dragged to the stage entrance. 

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.” Jisung quietly repeated the phrase like a mantra when he saw the size of the venue, and the crowd occupying most of it. Allen was right, people had definitely come.

It wasn’t a sold out event, and it wasn’t necessarily all the way full, but there was a considerable amount of people filling up every row in the venue. People looked up at the stage as if waiting for their cue, or talked with their friends and seatmates. It made Jisung’s stomach flip. 

He heard a low whistle next to his ear. “That’s a lot of people.” Lee Minho, the epitome of intelligence, “your friends are here, right? Your roommate and the kid he was with last time?” 

Jisung’s brain took a second to process that he was being asked a question. “Yeah,” he swallowed thickly, “Hyunjoon is here. He didn’t bring the same guy though, instead he brought two of our friends who have practically become hermits this school year.” He could feel his blood pressure slowly decreasing.

Minho hummed.

“You guys have a lot of friends then?” Jisung closed his eyes and took a deep breath for a moment before answering.

“Hyunjoon does. They’re all kind of my friends by association, but Hyunjoon is the reason behind it all.” Without thinking, he blurts, “I don’t think I’d have any friends if it weren’t for him.”

He feels a little bit embarrassed. Here he was, his palms sweating and stomach feeling like a butterfly cage, two seconds away from revealing his life story to a bass player with a superiority complex. He expected Minho to start making fun of him any second now.

“That’s not true,” The boy behind him said, and although he couldn’t see his face, Jisung was sure he heard a frown in his words, “you maybe wouldn’t have those specific friends without him, but you’d still have friends.”

“Oh yeah? Like who?” Jisung wasn’t sure if Minho was paying him a compliment or setting him up to be the butt of a joke, but he was wary of both.

“Ouch.” Minho scoffed, playfully shoving Jisung’s shoulder. The silver-haired boy risked a peak over his shoulder and saw a teasing smirk and watchful eyes on the other’s face.

“What?” He shot back, rubbing at his shoulder.

“Us, dumbass. You’d have us.” Minho said it like it was so obvious, like the idea that Jisung didn’t yet consider himself part of their friend group, or even part of their band to be frank, was absolutely absurd. Jisung didn’t think it was  _ that  _ wild of a suggestion. His position as permanent drummer had not been finalized or even discussed, and he didn’t really want to think of the band as his friends until it was. That would hurt more if they decided to kick him out.

“Right,” Jisung coughed, trying to force the hoarse from his voice, “I knew that.”

From behind him, Minho made a noise of fake offense, mumbling something about how he couldn’t  _ believe  _ Jisung didn’t consider them friends. Jisung knew what the older was doing, and he appreciated it, but he knew better than to thank him for it. Minho’s actions spoke a lot louder than his words did.

After a few more uncomfortable minutes, all of which consisted of hushed whispers from his bandmates as they all waited to be cued onstage. Finally, the lights went down and the crowd began to cheer as they stepped onto the stage.

A lump formed in Jisung’s throat. He tried not to look out into the sea of faces, fearing he might pass out if he made eye contact with anybody. With his head down and eyes averted, he scurried behind his drumset, letting out a sigh of relief when his members’ silhouettes formed a sort of shield in front of him.

He once again waited for the rest of the band to get in place and caught the encouraging smile and subtle wink thrown at him from a certain bassist. His heart might as well have just stopped. 

Chan gave him the signal and he tapped off four before the strum of the two guitars set off the introductions. He was last again, given the way they went around the stage and he was still thankful for that. His bandmates had a lot of energy, he could feel it coming off of them in waves, and buzzing through his own veins.

The other four once again introduced themselves with charismatic ease and the mic was now on for him. He caught Minho’s eye momentarily and at his bandmate’s curt nod, he sighed.

Fake it until you make it.

He grabbed his mic. “How’s everybody doing tonight?!” He shouted into the device, wincing a little when his voice echoed through the speakers. The crowd roared in response and Jisung felt the energy of it shake the stage beneath his feet. He just had to fake his confidence for another few seconds. 

“Alright, alright.” He waved them down and was surprised to hear them actually quieting down at his command. Remember to breathe. “My name is Jisung, I’m the drummer for Manic,”  _ Be charismatic, appeal to the crowd, _ “and I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to rock out tonight!” 

The crowd erupted once again, and he could hear the distant laughter of Seungmin and Changbin as he reattached his mic, sitting his wobbling knees back behind the drums. He caught the keyboardist giving him a thumbs-up and his red cheeks suddenly seemed worth it. He faked it, and he made it.

They played through the whole set that night, never tiring and despite their bodies being covered in sweat, the adrenaline they were pulling from the crowd was keeping them at their top game. The end of the show arrived before he knew it and it was now time for them to bust out the surprise.

“Okay, everybody, are you having fun?” Chan’s question was met with various screams. “Aww, I’m glad. As much fun as we’re having, it is nearing the end of tonight’s show, so for our last song, we have prepared something special. This song is written by our lead guitarist, Changbin, and it’s called Fool.”

The upbeat tune was met with a ridiculous hype. It seemed the place was louder than it had been all night, between the screams and the music. Seungmin was smiling wider than Jisung had ever seen, and for a second, he thought he saw a glimpse of pride in the younger’s eyes when he looked at Changbin. 

During his solo, Changbin took center stage and though Jisung couldn’t describe what he was doing, it sounded really,  _ really  _ good. The crowd loved it and when the chorus came back around, they were already yelling. Jisung had never felt so alive.

+++

“Changbin, where in the hell did you come up with that solo part?” Minho was practically shouting the minute they stepped off stage, his t-shirt soaked and chest heaving. Changbin patted his neck and jaw with a towel, giving himself a second to catch his breath.

“I improvised. To be honest, I had no idea I could even pull off something as fast-paced as that.” Changbin chuckled shyly, and gladly accepted the water bottles Allen offered them. 

“You’re crazy, you know that?” Minho laughed too, grabbing two bottles and passing one to Jisung without thinking. The silver-haired boy took it, looking curiously to Minho, but the bassist wasn’t even paying attention. 

On the way back to the dressing room, with Minho’s arm thrown around his shoulder and Jisung strategically keeping the older away from his heart, they heard an argument going on at the exit. 

“We’re literally friends of the drummer, let me talk to him.” Jisung knew that voice.

“It’s okay!” He called out to the security guards with their hands on Hyunjoon’s chest. “They’re with me.”

Hyunjoon, in all of his mature glory, stuck his tongue out at the guard when he passed. Two seconds later and his arms were wrapped around Jisung’s shoulders and a high-pitched squeal was sounding in his ear. 

“You were so good! That was incredible!” Hyunjoon pulled out of the hug, but didn’t step back. Jisung didn’t mind, he was used to his roommate hanging on him and all of their other friends. 

“He’s right, Ji. You were insane.” Sangyeon smiled and clapped his hand on the other’s shoulder. Jisung watched as his friends introduced themselves to his bandmates, and found himself smiling. Most of them got along great, and it made Jisung’s heart sing.

He thought back to the words Minho had said earlier, about them being his friends, and as he looked at the lead singer of Manic laughing with his RA, he suddenly felt like Minho was right.

+++

It was no surprise that Allen had managed to get them another gig, at an even bigger venue this time. They hadn’t even sold out the last one, but their fanbase had grown drastically and Allen concluded that they should ride their high.

They were back in the studio the next day and the atmosphere was a lot more relaxed than it had been the previous week. Jisung was grateful, seeing as his professors were piling on assignments and he was almost buckling from all the pressure.

His wrist was sore from a part in Fool that had him moving his hands way too fast, and he was pretty sure there was a splinter in his hand too. Still, Jisung would never pass up an opportunity to play, especially in the booth. 

“I think it’s about time we make our official decision.” Chan said during their break. They were all spread out on the studio floor, vending machine snacks in the middle of them like a shrine. 

“About what?” Jisung grabbed a bag of mini-cookies, shooting Chan a questioning gaze. He didn’t think they had anything to discuss, the set was going great. Chan and the others shared a look, smirks on their faces and Jisung suddenly felt very,  _ very _ out of the loop. 

Chan raised his canned soda in the air. “To Jisung,” He said, grinning down at the younger boy, “Manic’s new official drummer.” 

Jisung’s eyes went wide, barely even hearing the rest of the band raise their drinks as well, all congratulating him. He was officially a member of a band. An actual band. He’d only performed two shows with these people but they  _ wanted _ to keep him around. He could almost feel tears in his eyes.

“I think we broke him.” Seungmin chuckled, shoving Jisung’s shoulder and laughing harder when he just fell over. He felt several pairs of hands shaking him and patting him, and eventually he started to laugh along with them. He’d found the crowd he belonged with and his pieces were finally moving across the board.

“Alright, children. Get back to work, you have another gig soon.” Allen scolded them, but the smile in his voice gave it all away. Still the boys peeled themselves from the ground and entered the booth again, feeling a thousand times lighter.

+++

Practice wrapped up around eleven, and Jisung was never so thankful that he didn’t have morning classes on Mondays. Chan left almost immediately after practice ended, claiming he had an important project due the next day that he hadn’t even started on.

Seungmin bid everyone goodbye, going out to meet Felix in the parking lot. Apparently, the blond Australian had been asking about Jisung a lot. Seungmin said he wanted to get to know Jisung now that he was a part of the band and apologized in advance in case Felix saw him in the street and clung to him. Jisung waved it off and insisted that Felix was really no bother to him at all. 

Changbin went down to the bus stop, yelling at Minho that he would  _ not _ be waiting for the midnight bus if Minho missed this one. As soon as the door closed, Minho shot Jisung a look, a look that said “I’m not making that bus.” 

He tried to hold in his laughter when Minho's phone started ringing five minutes later as they were packing up their things, but he failed easily. Minho sent them all to voicemail, seeming to get a crack out of annoying his roommate. They were left in a comfortable silence for a little while.

“Hey,” Minho glanced up at Jisung, “do you like White Knights?” 

White Knights was a famous pop-rock band. They were known for getting their start right there in the city, coming from humble beginnings as just a few high schoolers playing in their parents' garage. The band was a huge success now and Jisung remembered trying to do drum covers of their earlier songs when he was younger. He wasn’t all that surprised that Minho knew them too, he looked the type.

“Yeah, I do. They’re one of my favorite bands.” Jisung pulled his coat from the rack and slipped his shoes on. Minho was busying himself by collecting the trash they'd left. It made Jisung smile to know how considerate he was of the janitors.

“They’re having a concert downtown on Thursday night.” Minho tossed the plastic bottles and bags into the trash can marked “recyclables.” He met Jisung’s eye for a second, then took to straightening the magazines on the table. 

“Oh yeah, I heard about that. Tickets supposedly ran pretty high.” Jisung was not sure where exactly Minho was going with this conversation, but he didn’t hate it. He liked being able to talk to him without all the snarky banter. It was fun and all, but he did not have the energy to supply good comebacks right now.

“Not that high.” Minho mumbled under his breath, clearing his throat and averting his eyes as he opened his mouth again, “I have an extra ticket. Changbin was supposed to go with me but he has to help his parents with something. Do you want to come?”

It took Jisung’s brain a minute to catch up, and understand that Minho was offering him a chance to see some of his biggest inspirations in music. Minho must have noticed his silence, because he shot a quick glance at the younger boy, raising an eyebrow. Jisung blinked and then immediately began nodding.

“Yes! Holy shit. Yeah, I wanna go!” A small smile played on the corner of Minho’s lips as he observed Jisung’s enthusiasm. The boy was practically jumping out of his shoes. 

“Cool.” Minho’s voice came out much weaker than he intended and he had to clear his throat again, “here.” He offered his phone.

Jisung typed his number in and very quickly handed the phone back to Minho, who almost laughed at how excited the boy was over the mention of going.

“I’ll text you tomorrow. I’d better go before Changbin comes back up to drag me by my nose ring.” Minho chuckled and grabbed his bag, waving goodbye to Jisung and heading toward the elevators. He finally let the small smile take over his face and looked down at the newest contact in his phone.

”Sungie🐿🍰.”

+++

True to his word, Minho had texted around noon.

“Just meet me in front of your campus on Thursday at 6.” Short and sweet, and to the point. Despite being such an intriguing individual, Minho in his presenting form lacked detail. It would’ve been mysteriously interesting had Jisung never encountered his type. But, he had. Minho wasn’t an easy read, but he wasn’t as good of a liar as he thought.

Still, the drummer was buzzing with excitement every time he thought about Thursday night. White Knights was the first band Jisung looked to when he started to teach himself drums. Of course, their music proved much too advanced for poor, inexperienced Jisung, but he had revisited his original plan after months burning through his retinas and sacrificing every last bit of sanity he had to learn drum basics.

Nothing about their music was subtle, nothing about it was meant to blend. Their style relied on organized chaos. Seeing as Minho himself seemed to embody organized chaos, it came as no surprise when the bassist revealed his love for the group.

Thursday seemed to come very quickly, though not quick enough for the awaiting Jisung. Hyunjoon dressed him as usual, and Jisung actually made an effort to style his own hair tonight. It was nothing compared to the way Sana made him look like a god, but it was decent for how the rest of the campus usually saw him. His makeup was another problem, luckily their loud voices carried into the room of the boy across the hall, and he was jumping at the opportunity.

Yunho didn’t dare let him see himself before he was finished, claiming it would “ruin the ambiance” he was trying to set. Jisung wasn’t so sure what the “ambiance” of styling an emo freshman for a rock concert could consist of, but he didn’t question the joyous boy smearing foundation on his cheeks. By the end, Yunho seemed proud of his product and he finally allowed Jisung to see.

It was a more subtle look than the heavy makeup Dahyun usually gave him, but it suited him very well. Browns and neutral tones balanced out the purple eyeliner Yunho had thrown in the mix. He looked better than he thought he would, and he was grateful that his neighbors were so cool.

Hyunjoon offered to walk him out to meet Minho, like a mother wishing to send off her child, but Jisung declined. Hyunjoon was supposed to join Sunwoo tonight at the aquarium, and he had his own outfit predicaments to worry about.

“No, seriously! What the fuck do you wear to a  _ aquarium. _ ” Hyunjoon was staring at his mountain of clothing as he pouted. Jisung chuckled, and slid five dollars to Yunho with a whisper in his ear.

“Bet you he's gonna ask you to do  _ his  _ makeup next.” He chuckled at the dramatic huffing of his friend. Yunho watched Hyunjoon with an observant eye for a few moments, but tossed his own five dollars next to Jisung’s.

“Ughhhhhhh!” Hyunjoon fell face-first into his pile of clothes. “What am I gonna do? Yunho, could you please do my makeup to make me feel better. It would give me outfit inspiration.” His roommate pleaded.

Jisung snickered as he took the ten dollars from the bed. 

“It’s getting late, I’m going to head down to the sidewalk and wait for Minho.” Jisung patted his friend on the back, throwing on the jacket he’d picked out and pocketing the spare money.

“Oh, time has really passed by quickly!” Yunho laughed, glancing at the clock, “Have fun on your date!”

The room fell silent, Yunho unaware of what he’d just said. Jisung was frozen in the doorway, while Hyunjoon was failing to choke down an obnoxious laugh. 

“It’s… uhm…” It wasn’t a date. It wasn’t. Minho simply had an extra ticket and needed somebody to come along so it didn’t go to waste. Everyone else had already left that night, Minho didn’t have a choice! It wasn’t a date. So, why did it make Jisung’s heart hammer against his chest to hear the word.

“Oh!” Yunho was once again ignorant to his internal struggle, instead peering out the window in between his and Hyunjoon’s bed, “Is that him? Your boyfriend’s cute, Jisung!” 

Jisung made a strangled noise, unsure of how to avoid completely falling apart in the doorway of his dorm room. Admittedly, this was the last place he thought he’d die. Before he could come up with words to say, Hyunjoon shot him a smug grin.

“Don’t need to give him waiting, Ji! Go meet your  _ boyfriend.”  _ Oh, Jisung was going to fucking kill him. But right now, he simply did not have the time.

He shot a bird at his roommate, taking the steps two at a time to make it down to campus. Minho was waiting patiently, watching the fountain in the middle of the courtyard with curious eyes. Jisung can’t help but think he’d pay thousands of dollars to know what went on inside Minho’s head sometimes.

The other boy glanced around at the dorm building and he grinned in greeting when he saw Jisung standing at the entrance. The younger cleared his throat, and tried to act cool. Like his roommate and the boy from across the hall  _ weren't  _ creepily pressed to their window and watching them. 

He crossed what little space was in between them and only spoke when he was right in front of Minho. 

“Interesting choice,” He said, flicking the golden cross hanging around Minho’s neck, “didn’t peg you for a man of religion.”

Minho grinned, but Jisung could tell by his twitching lips that it was sly. He’d seen that look in Minho’s eyes often in the short time that he’d known him. For a moment, he couldn’t believe how quickly he’d figured the other male out.

“Didn’t peg you for a drummer when I first laid eyes on you,” Minho chirped and rocked back on his heels with his hands clasped behind his back, “but we all have our quirks.”

Jisung laughed it off easily, already feeling his pieces start to move on their chess board. This game he was playing with Minho was long and difficult, but he was determined to win it.

“What other surprises are you hiding up your sleeve?” They began their walk to the bus station, standing a comfortable distance apart but close enough that Jisung could fall in step with him. 

“A magician never reveals his secrets. Don’t you know that, Sungie?” Minho shot him a megawatt smile that looked almost mocking. Jisung rolled his eyes as he often did around the bassist.

“You’re comparing yourself to a magician now? Funny, I always associated you more with a witch.” Jisung waited for Minho to play into his joke, and Minho laughed loudly.

“What kind of witch do you associate me with? A gorgeous and powerful one? Seems fitting.” Minho bumped shoulders with Jisung and the contact should  _ not  _ have made his heart speed up.

“Actually, in my mind it's always been the ugly kind with green skin and greasy hair.” He bumped Minho back for emphasis, despite the steady  _ thud thud thud  _ pounding in his ears. Minho seemed absolutely delighted with this answer.

“Fascinating how people can see different things, isn't it?” He didn’t sound in the least bit offended by Jisung’s comment, instead, he seemed to find it funny. His joy from such a simple thing was overwhelming to Jisung.

It occurred to him belatedly that Minho wasn’t exactly strange, just different. Different in the way that Jisung would never be able to figure out fully, different in the way that could leave a person questioning every word they said. Minho was different in a way that was as fascinating as it was frustrating.

Jisung knew Minho to the extent Minho let him. He knew Minho didn’t take relationships, or people for that matter, seriously. He knew he loved playing the bass, loved the band more than probably anything. He knew Minho got nervous before performances and sometimes it got so bad that he couldn’t sleep and drove to the studio in the early morning to practice. He knew Minho’s affection was veiled behind his jabs and jokes.

He’d figured out quirks that conveyed the older boy’s true feelings, like his twitching lips, fast blinking and grinding his teeth together. Jisung had learned that Minho didn’t know how to have conversations that didn’t call for his jokes and that when said conversation arose, it was the only time he wouldn’t speak. 

But Jisung didn’t know him truly. That realization dawned on him suddenly, like the dam had broken and water came rushing downstream, overflowing at the sides and breaking through the barriers meant to keep it at bay.

Jisung knew what Minho let him know. He knew what was presented to him and nothing more. He was suddenly overcome with an urge he didn’t understand the meaning of. He wanted to know Minho,  _ needed  _ to know him. All of him. The good, the bad and the gray areas. It scared him to the core and he almost stopped walking when it hit him.

Jisung had never looked at a person in any particular way before. His friends from high school were hardly more than convenient acquaintances, none of them had caught his attention in any other way. Jisung never felt the need to slap a label on his sexuality, because he honestly didn’t know what he aligned with. 

All he knew for sure was that the euphoria in his veins was only present with Minho. The beating of his heart didn’t happen with Hyunjoon or Chan or anybody else. It happened with Minho. And that was jarring. 

A thump on his head pulled him away from his nervous breakdown. 

“Are you there? Have the little mice in your brain stopped turning their wheels?” Minho’s smile was sly, the quirks of his lips a familiar sight to Jisung. By this point, he was used to Minho’s antics.

“Isn’t it something about mice  _ running  _ on the wheel?” He retorted, raising his eyebrow in response to the other’s cocky expression. Minho didn’t falter, he rarely did.

“You didn’t answer my question. You good?” It was a roundabout way of asking if he was okay after staring at the sky in silence for much too long. Jisung waved it off, choosing to sit down on one of the benches as they reached the bus station. Minho sat with him.

“Yeah. I’m just thinking about Fool.” More like thinking about  _ a  _ fool. It's him. He’s the fool. 

“Binnie is really talented, he spends most of his life in those little notebooks. He claims he just writes down what he’s feeling and then it comes to him.” Minho shrugged, leaning all the way back until his head bumped against the awning.

Jisung didn’t really know what that was like. Sure, he’d been fairly decent at writing when he tried and it wasn’t like he hated it. He’d never even thought about writing a song before, though he assumed it couldn’t be much different from the poems he’d written in his sophomore year. He kept those hidden in a shoebox under his bed like a typical teenager.

“Changbin seems very goal-oriented. He knows what he wants and he chases it.” Jisung added, that little feeling in his stomach nipping at his insides, the one that told him to choose his words carefully. 

“He is. He spends a lot of time doing that kind of stuff, even when we’re supposed to be relaxing.” 

Jisung couldn't imagine living with either of them. 

They sat in comfortable silence until the bus arrived, and Minho handed the bus driver his pass and a few extra dollars for Jisung. The younger boy started to protest, but Minho didn’t allow him time. They sat in the very back of the bus, where plush seats were replaced by a patterned bench stretching the width of the bus.

“Your boyfriend gonna be mad you're with me?”

The question almost had Jisung choking on his own saliva. He shot a look at the other, who disinterestedly played with his phone. Jisung saw the cut of his eyes though, the way his eyebrows scrunched slightly, as if the words had put a bad taste in his mouth. 

That wasn’t possible.

“Who?” Jisung couldn’t help himself but to ask. Who did Minho think he was dating, he didn’t hang out with anyone who could be perceived as his  _ boyfriend.  _

“The roommate.” Minho glanced at him, words bitter and snappy, “He was all over you the other day after the show.” His lips twitched, but not with a smile, and he gave a short laugh.

“It was actually embarrassing, you two are not good at hiding anything.” He quickly averted his gaze from anywhere near Jisung, deciding to focus on his black phone screen instead. Jisung could tell he was listening, waiting for Jisung to respond and that’s when he realized.

The bitterness in his voice, the curt laughter and eye movements, staring at his phone like he didn’t even want to make eye contact with him. Minho was jealous of Hyunjoon.

Jisung thought for a moment. He  _ could  _ correct Minho and say Hyunjoon was just his roommate, which would be the truth and would diffuse whatever was going on. He could also tell a half truth and avoid the boyfriend thing all together to watch Minho squirm a little. An evil grin spread on his face. He quite liked having this power.

“Oh,” He said, noticing his voice was too amused to be believable, “Hyunjoon is out with his friends tonight. I don’t think he’ll even notice I’m gone.” 

He was lying, partly. Hyunjoon  _ was  _ going out tonight, but it was more of a date than anything else, and he knew where Jisung was, had watched him leave. But the look crossing Minho’s face was priceless, and he didn’t really feel all that bad.

“Just making sure I won’t have to deal with a jealous boyfriend tonight.” Once again, Minho’s voice was bitter but he was presenting Jisung with an opportunity. He made a point to say  _ boyfriend  _ both times and Jisung knew it was a ploy to get him to confirm or deny his relationship status to Hyunjoon. How the tables did turn.

“You won’t.” He said simply and turned back to the window like nothing had happened. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Minho staring at him with a look between confusion and something else. Jisung had the upper hand and was moving his pieces further into the dark side of the board.

The rest of the bus ride was spent with Jisung happily forcing Minho into pointless conversation, the older boy grumbling answers and confirmations. Eventually, his inability to back down from a challenge got the better of him, and he started playing along.

“That is a fucking pigeon, Jisung.”

“Says who?”

“Are you serious?”

“Who says seagulls can’t live in the city?”

“Pretty certain they can’t.”

“Stop ruining their dreams, Lee.”

The bus stopped roughly two blocks from where the venue was and they continued their bickering the entire way. Even at the crosswalk, where several people in suits and ties with phones pressed to their ears shot them warning looks to quiet down, they still fought about the most harmless things.

“A mermaid's tail is literally part of their anatomy, it’s a bone.” 

“Their legs are just stuffed in the slimy fish tale and they can’t get out of it because it’s so tight.”

A few times Jisung thought Minho was going to push him out into traffic, and he was fully prepared to drag him down with him.

The venue's doors had already opened and the line was pretty short since the crowd was already inside. Security wasn’t as slow as Jisung thought it would be, and it was a pretty quick venture into the arena. The entire place was painted like an old cathedral, with velvet on the floor and ceilings. A table in the corner of the entrance was selling merch.

“Come on, we’d better find our seats.” Minho tugged on Jisung’s wrist and pulled him to the section. Jisung didn’t even notice where they were going, because he was so focused on the hand clasped tightly around him and the person the hand belonged to. 

The arena was set up in a unique way, with the floor areas being actual seats that extended all the way to the stage. It was a good thing too, because it was probably 15 minutes before the show started and they were just now getting there. 

And Minho had really,  _ really  _ good seats. 

They were on the third row back from the stage, in the center section. They would be right in front of the band. Jisung suddenly felt a jolt of excitement course through his veins and a smile took over his face.

“You look like you just found out where you are.” Minho laughed, finally releasing his wrist. Jisung would never have said it out loud, but he already missed the warmth and security of the older’s touch. Instead, he focused on the stage again.

“I didn’t think we would be  _ this  _ close,” he breathed, and then turned on Minho, “how much did you pay for these tickets?” 

Minho just shrugged, a light smile on his face. 

“These must have cost a fortune. And you just  _ gave  _ me one?” Jisung was about to whip out his wallet, he had to give the other some sort of payment, even if all he had was $7 and a mint.

Minho waved him off, seeing Jisung’s hand reaching for his pocket. Under this lighting, his blue hair looked almost purple. It wasn’t straightened, but Minho had parted it and that caused some of the ends to lift up at weird angles. Perhaps it was the lights that made his eyes look like they held the galaxy within. Jisung’s hand froze by his pocket.

Minho read his hesitation as understanding, and turned back to the stage.

“They weren’t that expensive. Besides, I think the value of money is more in how you spend it than how much you spend.” Minho slid his hands into his back pockets and rocked back on his heels, totally relaxed.

“That is probably the most profound and, dare I say, nicest thing you’ve ever said.” 

Minho shot him a look of feigned offense. “You have only known me for a few months, how do you know that's the nicest thing I’ve  _ ever  _ said?” The life in his voice was all the indication Jisung needed to know he was joking. He decided to take a small risk.

“I think I have you figured out.” It was a lie, though not much of one. He didn’t have Minho figured out, that’s why he was so drawn to the mystery that was Lee Minho, but he liked to think he still knew him to some degree.

“You’re wrong.” Minho said with a smug grin. He said it with confidence, like he knew every word Jisung said was a lie, like he knew there was no way the younger could figure  _ him _ out.

“Or maybe you aren’t as hard to read as you think you are.” Another lie, on Jisung’s end, but he put an equal amount of confidence behind the words. Minho side-eyed him, smirk playing on the corner of his lips.

“Really?” He drawled.

“Really.”

“What’s my favorite color?”

“Mint.”

Minho turned to him with a surprised expression. His mouth hung open a little but he quickly regained most of his composure, folding his arms over his chest and clearing his throat. 

“How did you know that?”

Truthfully, Jisung had guessed. He’d seen Minho’s bag, a black computer carrier with mint trims and designs, as well as his phone case which was solid mint. Minho also wore two mint-colored gems in the balls of his helix piercings, a small detail Jisung had noticed during one of their practices and also found himself looking at often.

“I told you, you’re not hard to read.” 

Their chess pieces began switching around the board. Knights taking knights and kings evading and protecting as Minho fired more questions at him.

“What’s my favorite animal?”

“Cats.” He had three as his lock screen.

“How many siblings do I have?” 

“None.” Chan had mentioned it offhandedly when trying to convince Jisung that Minho was simply difficult on purpose.

“How tall am I?” 

“5’8.”

“I’m 5’9.”

“You’re a liar.”

“Fuck you.”

The lights went down as their bickering continued and they quickly quieted down for the sake of the crowd screaming in their ears. Attention now on the stage, they could barely make out the silhouettes of 6 members of the band making their way to the stage. It reminded Jisung of when they performed and he suddenly wished to know what it was like to perform in front of a crowd this big. He was smiling so wide and was so focused on their figures, he failed to notice that Minho’s attention was not on the stage. It was on him. 

The drummer counted them off and the music began.

+++

The arena was still screaming even after the band had left the stage and the lights had come up. Some people started to head for the exit, while others stayed in their seats to wait out the rush. Minho once again fastened his hand around Jisung’s wrist and pulled him to the doors. 

The crowd was very,  _ very _ large and though he didn’t have as much of a problem performing in front of one, it was a very big difference to actually being in one. Everyone was crammed together, and he kept getting rammed into and shoved by random people he couldn’t even see. He could feel his breath quickening, as the feeling of panic rose in his stomach.

And then, Minho was beside him, the hand not holding his wrist was latched to the back of his neck and Jisung recognized the motions, they were soothers his mother often used.

“Five things you can see.” Minho whispered in his ear, moving to block him from as much of the crowd as he could. Jisung took a deep breath.

“Jacket, ceiling, doors, people, curtains.” He listed them as his eyes anxiously wandered and his feet carried him to keep pace with Minho.

“Four things you can touch.”

“Your hand, my jeans, your necklace, my hair.”

“Three things you can hear.”

“Yelling,” Jisung said with a nervous chuckle and he saw Minho give an encouraging grin, “music and…” The doors opened as they stepped out onto the stairs outside the venue and a breath of fresh air hit his lungs, “...cars.”

“Two things you can smell.” Minho continued.

“Pasta and sweat.” His nose wrinkled at the combination, but he could feel his heartbeat calming down with each thing he listed.

“One thing you can taste.”

“Uh… gum?”

Minho hummed. “What kind?”

“Watermelon.”

A few seconds later and the crowd had split off into different directions and Minho was pulling him as far away from the group as he could. A short alleyway came into view and he ducked into it, leading Jisung in with him.

He kept his distance as soon as they were away from the crowd, dropping his hands and giving the other space. 

“Sorry about grabbing you without warning. I should’ve asked.” He was rubbing his hands together like they burned from the touch. He stared at them, glaring down in what appeared to be shame.

“It’s okay. You were trying to get us out of there, it didn’t bother me.” Jisung leaned upon against the opposite wall, taking a moment for his breathing to even out. Minho repeatedly blinked at his hands, before tucking them into his pockets.

“Thank you,” Jisung said suddenly and Minho's gaze snapped up from the ground to meet his, “I didn’t feel it during the performance, but I think everything got to be very overwhelming. Thank you for helping.”

Minho smiled, but only for a second. “It’s no problem,” he said, his hand waving dismissively in the way Jisung knew it would, “I don’t like unexpected loud noises and it was a little much for me too.”

They stood in silence for a few more minutes, waiting until they’d both gained back steady breathing and calmed down, before stepping back out into the streets. Minho reached out, his hand hovering an inch above Jisung’s wrist, a silent question. Jisung nodded and Minho gently wrapped his fingers around the younger’s wrist.

It took a street and a half for Jisung to realize they weren’t headed back to the bus stop and he frowned as he glanced down at his phone. The next bus ran at 10:30 and it was 10:23. The last bus ran at 11:30 and they were in a part of town he was not familiar with. He didn’t really want to head home alone so late.

“Where are we going?” He asked Minho, who grinned back at him and tugged his wrist a little. Jisung furrowed his eyebrows, but didn’t protest. 

They walked a few more blocks, crossing the road once before a narrow rock path broke off from the main sidewalk, and Minho happily led them down it toward a bench overlooking a lake.

Minho released him and skipped over to the bench, leaving one foot on the ground and slinging the other over the back of the bench. Jisung couldn’t help but laugh as he followed, sitting down at the other corner and crossing his ankles.

“Why are we at the lake?” He asked with a raised eyebrow, only to be met with Minho's unwavering gaze.

“I thought it would be a nice calm area. I  _ can  _ be nice, you know?” He nudged Jisung with his shoe, giving a giggle at how he immediately brushed a dusty spot into his jacket.

“How do I know this isn’t just part of your expert plot to kill me?” Jisung joked, raising both his eyebrows at Minho, who huffed.

“Do you trust me?” He suddenly threw out, looking somewhere in between serious and humorous. Jisung wasn’t sure how to react to that, so he chose not to.

“I don’t like that answer.” 

Minho rolled his eyes, but smiled and folded his hands neatly on his stomach. “I wouldn’t kill you. We tried so hard to find a decent drummer, it wouldn’t make sense for me to kill him.”

“I get the impression you’ve almost killed several drummers before.” Jisung shot back. Minho shrugged, unaffected and unwilling to argue that accusation.

“You’re not them.” 

His voice was so casual and unbothered that Jisung almost didn’t catch his words. He peeked at the blue-haired boy, hoping to gauge his expression, but he remained stoic. His eyes were closed, head laid on the wooden seat.

“I’m different, you say?” Jisung teased.

“Did I say that?”

Jisung hummed, poking Minho in the leg. “You might as well have. Good to know you wouldn’t hurt me, though.”

“I said I wouldn’t  _ kill _ you, not that I wouldn’t hurt you.” He peeked an eye open and saw Jisung’s incredulous face. It pulled a laugh from deep in his chest. “Calm down, I’m joking.”

“Wish I could tell.” Jisung grumbled. He shifted in his seat and the minute his lap became available, Minho planted his foot across it. Jisung didn’t complain, the weight was actually comforting.

“Nobody can lay a hand on you now that you’re Chan’s baby.” The bassist sat up on his elbows, but kept his eyes closed as he tilted his head back. Here, with the moonlight highlighting his sharp features, Jisung almost convinced himself that Lee Minho was not real. 

“I thought you didn’t follow Chan’s rules.” He whispered back.

Minho's head dropped forward, his eyes fluttering open. “I don’t.” He snapped, defensively.

“Mhm,” Jisung rested his hands on Minho's shins, dragging them lightly up and down the denim material, “but you won’t hurt me, because Chan said not to.”

“I’m reconsidering that.” Minho mumbles, but his words held no heat.

“You’re scared of Chan.” Jisung knew his accusation would only provoke the older, but maybe he wanted to provoke him. Maybe messing with Minho with fun and maybe he thought he was beginning to get the upper hand in their game of chess.

“I will literally put a knife through your throat right now to prove you wrong.” The threat was empty, as it usually was. 

“Do it,” Jisung challenged and met the bassist’s eyes. They stared at each other in silence for a few beats, Jisung waiting for Minho to make a move when they both knew he wouldn’t. “You won’t. Because Channie would have your head on a stick, you said so yourself.”

Minho sat up abruptly, putting his face closer than it needed to be to Jisung’s, but the silver-haired boy refused to back down. For a second, he considered that perhaps this to be the same characteristic that had got him into this situation in the first place. 

“Nobody controls me.” He whispered, breath fanning Jisung’s face. He smelled like strawberry. 

“Except Chan.”

Somehow, Minho got closer. They were so close, Jisung thought their noses were about to touch.

“Not Chan, not you, and not anybody else.” 

Got him.

“Nobody said anything about me.” Jisung whispered back with a smile. He was getting to Lee Minho, he was getting to that brick wall of man. Jisung was adding color to the blank canvas that was his face.

“Can you be any more annoying?” Minho huffed and backed away, swinging his legs to the ground. Their thighs and arms were pressed together, but neither of them moved away.

“If you ask nicely.”

“You’re making me regret asking you to come tonight.”

“Good. I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t.” Minho stared at him, his lips taking the shape of his signature amused smirk. He chuckled and shook his head, choosing to gaze at the black water instead. The smile never faded.

They sat in silence for maybe ten minutes. It wasn’t because they didn’t have anything to talk about, they just didn’t need to. Minho had nothing he wanted to say and Jisung had nothing he wanted to make him say. He was content with the way the blue-haired boy played with the bracelet on his left hand, pulling the beads toward him and letting them snap back against Jisung’s wrist. 

At some point, Minho must’ve been tired of sitting there, or tired of hearing himself think. He stood up, watching the water and the moonlight with a lingering glance and offered his hand. 

Harsh moonlight didn’t look good on many people, didn’t make them seem like anything but silhouettes, but the figure in front of him was more than a simple silhouette and it looked damn good on him. Jisung felt he could write several poems just looking at the boy in front of him, and he recognized the feeling of inspiration, welcomed it. 

He let Minho pull him to his feet and there was a fleeting moment where neither let go, where they stood almost chest-to-chest and watched. Minho hovered a second too long before letting go and he brushed past the drummer to the rock path they’d come down. Jisung followed.

The bus stop wasn’t all that crowded, most of the rush had died down by this point in the night. Minho sat close on the bench, even if he had plenty of room. Jisung told himself it was simple courtesy for other passengers.

When the bus back to the collegetown arrived, he didn’t expect Minho to follow, so he checked his pockets for the bit of money he’d come with and climbed the steps. Minho's presence stayed. Before he could dig out his $7, Minho reached around him and swiped his card twice through the machine. Jisung turned sideways to look him in the eye and found a bored and impatient Minho staring back.

“What are you doing?” 

“Trying to board the bus, but your slow ass is holding up the line.” There was nobody around but them and a few sleeping stragglers already on board, either late workers or homeless individuals. 

“You’re coming back to campus with me?” Jisung couldn't hide his shock. Minho looked at him inquisitively, tilting his head to the side. It swept the ends of his hair into his eyes.

“Obviously? Did you  _ want  _ to go home alone? At this hour?” 

“No!” Jisung lowered his voice when he saw Minho flinch at the sudden outburst, scolding himself internally for not remembering what he’d said earlier, “You live on the other side of town,” He said, voice soft, “you told me you did that night you sent me home in a cab.” 

Minho shrugged. “I texted Changbin after the concert ended, told him to pick me up outside your dorm. Which we won’t be getting to at a reasonable hour if you don’t  _ get on the bus.”  _

Jisung held his hands up in mock surrender, climbing the rest of the stairs and heading for the back of the bus. Externally, he showed little to no reaction, but internally, his practiced art crumbled around him. Minho had planned to take him home and that shouldn’t have done funny things to his chest, but oh boy it did. 

Minho took the outside seat, leaning over Jisung to stare out the window at the moon. Jisung’s eyes had nowhere to go but on Minho’s face again, his sharp jawline, straight nose and doe eyes. How was a person just born like that? Witchcraft, he decided. 

Minho had an obsession with the moon, it seemed. Though Jisung couldn't really complain, it offered him endless moments to just stare at the other boy and Jisung never seemed to pass up an opportunity. Minho turned his head toward Jisung, meeting his eyes and smirking when he realized the position they were in.

He pulled back, the smirk still painted solid on his face and Jisung had half a mind to hate him for it. They didn’t talk the entire ride home, Jisung’s body was winding down and his eyes felt very heavy, but he promised himself he would not fall asleep before he got home.

The bus stop near campus came into view, but not before Jisung was dead on his feet and having to be tugged off the bus.

“Come on, Sungie. I know you want to spend more time with me, but we have a performance on Saturday! I promise I’ll make time for you.” Minho winked and Jisung was not near awake enough to do more than shove his entire hand in his face. Minho’s laugh vibrated against his palm.

He opted for slinging an arm around Jisung’s shoulders and a much more alert Jisung would've known to tease him for it, maybe even shrug him off just to be irritating. But alas, he was not alert-Jisung, which meant he didn’t hesitate to subtly curl under his arm. Minho noticed his movement by the way he tensed, but his locked up muscles slowly relaxed and he shook his head.

“You want me to walk you to your dorm room?” He whispered despite them being the only two people on the sidewalk. Jisung blinked, not even noticing they had reached the campus sidewalk. He looked around, noticing the streets were completely void of any familiar cars.

“Where’s Bin?” He groggily asked, reluctantly unwrapping from Minho. He didn’t move away though, not when Minho didn’t make a move to either.

“He’ll be here soon.” Minho was reassuring, almost convincing, but even a sleepy Jisung knew it wasn’t a good idea to leave somebody alone in the dark late at night.

“I can't just leave you standing out here after you took me back to campus.” He moved to sit directly on the concrete, before Minho's hands caught his shoulders with a soft smile. 

“You’re tired, you need to go up to bed, Sungie.” His voice was soft and quiet, almost endearing. 

“No. Not while you’re still out here.” 

Minho sighed, fishing his phone out from his jacket pocket and reaching out behind Jisung to pluck his phone too. When Jisung looked at him curiously, he grabbed Jisung’s hand, placing the phone face-up in his palm.

He typed on his own phone and Jisung’s began to ring. He eyed it and then looked back to Minho, who had his phone pressed to his ear. He nodded at the phone and gestured for him to answer it. Jisung did.

“See,” Minho said, and his voice echoed through the phone, “now I'm not alone.” 

Jisung opened his mouth to protest but the look Minho gave him left no room for arguments. “Go to bed. Watch me from your window, stay on the line, whatever makes you feel content, but go to bed.” 

Jisung huffed but accepted the reassurance. “I am going to stay on this line until I hear Changbin’s voice.”

“How considerate of you.” 

Jisung knew Minho was watching him as he struggled to unlock the door to his dorm building, he heard the faint chuckles in his ear and groaned when the key missed the keyhole yet again. Finally, the key slid in and he let out a breath of relief. 

_ “If you pass out in the stairwell, I might have to kick your ass myself.”  _ He heard in his ear and he rolled his eyes, despite knowing it was very possible.

“You wouldn’t be able to catch me.”

_ “You think you’re fast or something? Think you can outrun me?” _

Jisung smiled and stepped into the rickety elevator taking him to his fourth floor dorm. “I absolutely could outrun you.”

_ “That sounds like a challenge, Han. Are you trying to challenge me?” _

“And what if I am?”

_ “You’ll lose.”  _

“Says you.” Despite the banter, both their voices were uncharacteristically soft, a familiar hint of amusement in the way they spoke. 

They continued whatever the disagreement was about this time as Jisung dipped into his dorm, the figure of his roommate awake and typing on his laptop in the dark startling him more than it should have. He waved a hello to Hyunjoon before moving to the window to watch Minho in the courtyard.

“Is Lee Minho afraid to lose to me?”

_ “Can’t be afraid of the impossible.” _

“How poetic of you.”

_ “Thanks, I’ve been working on it for a while.”  _

“I can tell.”

A black car slowed near the edge of the sidewalk, its driver hidden behind a black cap, but the license plate was familiar. Minho saw it too, but he looked up first, searching the building windows until he found Jisung staring back at him. He smiled.

_ “This was fun. Let’s never do it again.” _

Jisung giggled. “Yeah, never again.”

_ “I’m going to hang up now.” _

“Good for you.”

_ “Ouch. At least pretend you’re sad to see me go.” _

“Get the fuck off my lawn.”

Minho shot him a middle finger. His smile remained even as he dropped it and began walking backwards to his ride.

_ “Goodnight _ , _ Jisung.”  _

“Goodnight, Minho.”

The line went dead as Jisung watched the blue-haired boy sink into the passenger's seat of their bandmate’s car and he waited until it drove away to go lay down on his bed. He didn’t bother to change or take his makeup off, a decision he would regret in the morning, but he was too tired to care. Hyunjoon laughed lowly at the dumb expression on his face. 

He didn’t ask, but Hyunjoon answered anyway. “You two are whipped fools.”

He waved him off, not having the energy to actually care. They were too far in their game to turn back now.

+++

Friday night’s practice was more energetic than normal. Minho was bouncing off every surface he was near, he played in a way they usually only saw in concert, but Chan seemed to love it and only encouraged him further. 

Their next gig was Saturday and it was so far out, they agreed to just take Allen’s rented minivan to the venue and back. Jisung had assured his friends that they didn’t have to come, but Hyunjoon acted like he’d just told him the world was ending.

“Are you kidding, of course we’re coming! I’m bringing Haknyeon.”

They met early in the afternoon on Saturday, waiting around in the booth as Allen made phone calls and pulled the van around front. Chan, Seungmin and Changbin took the three middle seats, putting Jisung and Minho in the back.

They drove for 10 minutes before everyone started settling in and Jisung was staring out of the window when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned and saw Minho with his earbuds in, a growing smile on his face and offering one earbud.

Jisung stares dumbly at it for a moment, his mind blank of a proper reaction, but it just made Minho giggle softly again. He wiggled the earbud in the air and Jisung finally remembered how to move his hands. He had to move closer to avoid tugging on the wire too much but he wasn’t going to complain. At all.

Minho played a lot of typical rock music, but he seemed to really enjoy bubblegum pop right along with it. Jisung failed to muffle his laughs when Minho started performing the choreographies in the back. Luckily, nobody chose to investigate the source of all the laughter.

The ride didn’t seem that long when he was sitting in the back with Minho, who made him laugh so hard his stomach was aching by the time they pulled up to the venue. They could see their usual hair and makeup girls climbing out of a similar van, with five unfamiliar girls in tow. 

“Time to go stun some people with my incredibly good looks.” Minho remarked, as if it was the most tiring experience instead of the highlight of his day. Jisung rolled his eyes and pushed him back, stopping him from climbing over his lap.

Sana squealed in excitement when he came up, already running her hands through his hair and talking animatedly about how long it was getting. Dahyun watched with a smile, talking with one of the newer girls on the scene while analyzing Jisung.

“Oh, you two haven’t met yet. Jisung, this is your new wardrobe manager, Yeji. Yeji, this is the drummer, Jisung.” Dahyun gestured between them and Jisung held out his hand, which Yeji gladly shook.

“Congratulations,” Yeji said with a grin, “I heard you guys are moving up the totem pole.” 

Jisung could still feel Sana’s hands in his hair as they walked into the backstage, Dahyun and Yeji in deep conversation about the look they were going for tonight. 

A few feet away, he could hear Seungmin and Minho arguing with the new girls like they’d known each other for years. Minho's wardrobe manager was a little shorter than he was, with blue hair cut in a choppy bob and clearly not taking any of his shit. Seungmin’s was an excited brunette, and paid no mind to his grumbling attitude while she pulled him along.

Yeji led him to a back room, where she immediately went over to a rack of clothes and began pulling things off the rack to layer together. He wasn’t really sure what to say to her, so he chose to say nothing at all.

“I’ve listened to a few of your songs,” Yeji said as she held a t-shirt up to his chest, “I like them. They’re different.” 

“Different how?” He asked in between her debate over long or short sleeved shirts. Yeji grinned up at him, her eyes kind and her smile genuine.

“Different in a good way. You’re really talented.” 

Conversation wasn’t difficult, Yeji was ready to flow with any kind of conversation switch-ups and she kept her sweet smile on her face for most of their talk. She dressed Jisung in blacks and reds, setting off the gray hair with chains and rips in his clothes.

Dahyun and Sana worked at the same time as usual, with Sana brushing his hair off of his forehead in a part and Dahyun coloring in the corners of his eyes with smoky reds. They talked a lot about the other hair and makeup girls, about the games they played in the van on the way and such.

Jisung wasn’t the last to finish, but he was the fourth. Seungmin was the last and he grumbled unceremoniously as he slapped a ten in Changbin’s awaiting palm. 

They all snickered and got lined up against the side of the stage. Jisung realized he didn’t even feel nervous anymore, like the nerves of it were overshadowed by something else all of a sudden. He felt a tug more his lower back and glanced over his shoulder to see Minho playing with one of the chains wrapped around his waist over the shirts.

The lights went out and they began their entrance on stage. Jisung tried to move toward his drums, but Minho reached out yet again and tugged on the chains with a playful grin. He slapped his hand away. The audience giggled and Jisung realized belatedly they could still see their silhouettes. 

He swatted at Minho again, smiling apologetically at Chan before moving behind the drumset. This time, he wasn’t nervous when he introduced himself as Jisung, Manic’s drummer and the higher end of their average looks. Minho obviously countered him by introducing himself as the highest end and sent Jisung a cheeky smile, resulting in the younger sticking his tongue out like a third grader. 

It wasn’t a huge step, but Jisung was proud of himself for making it. He was on the road to paradise.

+++

As promised, Jisung got a hundred texts the minute he stepped off stage, all from Hyunjoon losing his mind over their performance. He felt really good about what they’d just done and he felt even better when Chan shoved him with a grin, pretending to reprimand him for his and Minho’s little scene before the set.

His phone buzzed again in his hand and he didn’t even have to look at it to know it was Hyunjoon. Chan raised an eyebrow at Jisung’s nonchalance. 

“It’s just Hyunjoonie,” He shrugged, “he will probably be fighting the staff any minute to get back here.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Minho feigning interest in the makeup table. 

“You must be really popular. He brings new people along every time he comes to one of the shows.” 

Jisung chuckled, a bit awkward. He wasn’t really sure how to respond to that. They were mainly Hyunjoon’s friends, but Jisung didn’t want to say they weren’t his friends too, even if they more than likely only came to the shows because of Hyunjoon.

“He wants to make sure everybody gets a chance to see how hard he’s worked on me.” Jisung joked, and it was the truth. Hyunjoon boasted about how he’d forced Jisung out of his shell and even Jisung himself couldn’t deny it too much.

“He sounds like a really good boyfriend.” Jisung was surprised by Chan's words. He knew Minho thought Hyunjoon and him were dating, but he wasn’t aware that the entire band was convinced. Despite explaining that they were just roommates, it seemed like everybody had made up their mind. 

“Oh, he’s—“

“Han Jisung!” Jisung turned at the shout of his name, and saw Hyunjoon barreling towards him, Haknyeon in tow. “That was so crazy! I’ve never even seen you look so confident, you were incredible!” 

Haknyeon laughed and tried to restrain their friend, though Hyunjoon was like a ball of energy at that point. Jisung honestly didn’t mind, he was glad to see Hyunjoon’s sheer joy. 

His booming voice brought all the members of the band over and Hyunjoon seemed to take notice of them for the first time since he’d been there. He wrestled Haknyeon’s hands from him and extended his own towards Minho.

“I’m so sorry, I seem to have forgotten my manners! My name is Hyunjoon, it’s great to meet you.” 

Minho stared at the outstretched hand and Jisung had an inkling of fear that he was going to say something insanely rude to Hyunjoon. Minho, however, briefly met Jisung’s eyes, and instead, shook his roommate’s hand wordlessly. 

Hyunjoon moved around to each of the band members, each of them shaking his hand with polite smiles. Seungmin and Changbin stepped away to get changed and Chan got pulled aside by Allen, but Minho stayed planted in his spot. 

“I am so excited, I can’t wait to brag to Jacob about how much this band thing has been yanking you out. He’s going to be totally surprised!” Hyunjoon was practically vibrating with excitement, when he cut a short look at Minho and his gaze filled up with mischief. Jisung knew that look. 

“Minho, right?” Hyunjoon said, with a bright smile on his face. Minho gave him a once-over and nodded. “We’re having dinner with some of our friends next Sunday, you should come.” 

“Oh,” Minho said, sounding as monotonous as the first time Jisung had met him, “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“You wouldn’t be! I’m inviting you. I’m sure everyone would  _ love  _ to meet a member of the band Jisung’s in.” Hyunjoon slid a look to Jisung for confirmation, and Jisung glared back. He knew what game Hyunjoon was playing and a part of him couldn’t stand him for it.

“Yeah,” He agreed through slightly gritted teeth, “I’m sure they’d love to meet you, if you want to come.”

He silently prayed Minho did not want to come. 

“Yeah. Yeah, sure. I’ll come.” Fuck.

Hyunjoon’s smile only grew and he clapped his hands together excitedly. He rattled off about Jisung texting Minho the details of the dinner, but Jisung was hardly paying attention. How the hell was he supposed to survive his friends being around Minho? What if they said something embarrassing? What if they pried too much or asked too many questions? What if they scared him away?

He didn’t have much more time to think about it, because they had a car ride back to worry about and Jisung distantly remembered that he shared a seat with Minho. 

Allen and Chan came back over, making small talk with Hyunjoon and Haknyeon for a few minutes, before politely excusing themselves and the other band members. Hyunjoon hugged him goodbye, and Jisung could practically feel the quiet hiss that left Minho’s mouth.

He waved bye to Yeji as she and the others packed up their van and she set him a blinding smile in return. He decided he liked her, she was a nice person. On the way to their own van, he also took note of Minho, who was right behind him at all times. The thought made him chuckle to himself.

The seating arrangements didn’t change, but he noticed Minho sitting further away instead of in the middle seat like he did on the drive up. He was going to make a comment, or maybe sling his feet over Minho’s lap, but his phone suddenly buzzed with a text from Hyunjoon.

_ I don’t think Minho likes me too much. :) _

He bit back a laugh and turned in his seat to ensure the safety of his messages. He could feel Minho’s stare from the corner of his eye, even if he didn’t look directly at him.

_ He’s weirdly jealous of you, I think. I think he wants to be friends with me or something. _

He was ready to click off his phone and wait for the other’s text, but Hyunjoon started typing immediately. Haknyeon must be driving them home. 

_ “Friends.” You’re so dumb, it’s genuinely upsetting. _

Jisung wasn’t sure what that meant, but he didn’t bother to reply. He lived with Hyunjoon, he could explain what his message meant later if he pleased. Jisung stuffed his phone in his pocket and focused on Minho, who was staring at his lap with a glare.

Jisung grinned and began toeing at the boy’s shins, trying his hardest to pull some sort of reaction out of him. After a significant amount of prodding, Minho looked up. His expression was bored, but he didn’t look as angry as he had been a second ago.

Jisung smiled a wide and cheeky smile at him, continuing his assault on his legs. Minho just held his gaze, face unmoving but analytical. Jisung chose to let him. When his foot reached Minho’s kneecap, the other darted his hand out and grasped Jisung’s ankle.

The silver-haired boy smirked, a challenge in his eyes as he waited for the older of them to accept it. He did, Jisung knew he would. Minho yanked at Jisung’s foot, pulling his body off the seats and halfway into the floor. Jisung squealed and braced himself against the chairs in front of him. He was still grinning.

He struggled to pull himself upright, but once his legs were in Minho’s lap and he was in the boy’s personal space, he put on the most innocent look he could muster. 

“Hi.” He beamed and Minho seemed to grow even more bored. His hand squeezed Jisung’s ankle.

“What do you want, menace?” Minho didn’t sound angry, or even as annoyed as he looked, he just sounded blank. Just another canvas for Jisung to color.

He was half aware that this contributed to their game. The back and forth, the push and pull of their words and actions, the way they bounced off each other and seemed to swing between the softer moments and being outright annoying the next day was all part of their game. Minho was proving to be a fair opponent, but Jisung had never lost a game.

“Me?” Jisung blinked innocently, knowing Minho wouldn’t buy it, “I don’t want anything.” He folded his arms on Minho’s shoulder, leaning his chin against them.

“Why are you in my lap then?” Minho grumbled, but he made no move to push Jisung off, or release his limbs from his tight hold, Jisung noticed.

“I’m not in your lap.” He scoffed, and shifted to place his thighs directly on top of the bassist’s. Minho stared down at his lap, blinking wordlessly at the intrusion. His face showed no reaction, but Jisung knew he was thinking. “ _ Now  _ I’m in your lap.” 

“Congratulations,” Minho’s voice leaked sarcasm, “you’ve invaded my personal space successfully. Anything else?” 

Jisung hummed and retracted his hands from Minho’s shoulders, but he casually let his fingers brush the other’s exposed skin. He was burning up, but not from a fever. 

Jisung had several hobbies. He liked to read and play the drums, and he liked movies, specifically, bad movies. He would actively spend money on seeing a bad movie rather than a good one. In high school, he was one of the only people in his friend group who never had to repeat a class. But Jisung also liked people, liked to find out what they thought about and how their minds worked. He thought human behavior was an interesting thing and Minho surely made for an interesting subject. 

Jisung moved his head to lay on the shoulder he’d just removed his hands from and gave his most innocent and unbothered grin when he felt Minho’s breath hitch. The older let go on his ankle, but only to place his arm on the back of the seat.

“You okay, Min? You sound out of breath.” Jisung couldn't even hide the shit-eating grin that spread across his face. Minho didn’t miss it either, if his glare said anything. 

“Fucking peachy.” 

In the back of his mind, Jisung was well-aware that his actions were a direct result of the adrenaline in his veins, and he would be embarrassed by them come tomorrow, but that didn’t stop him from shamelessly digging his cheek into Minho’s shoulder and closing his eyes. He could both hear and feel Minho mumbling, probably trying to push him off or figure out how to get away, but Jisung pretended not to hear a single word. 

Within minutes, he was asleep. 

Because of his slumber, he missed Chan turning around to ask if they wanted anything to eat, but he stopped himself before he could wake Jisung up. Minho’s tortured expression brought a smug grin to his face.

“Not a word.” The blue-haired boy’s words were like ice, and Chan threw up his hands in mock surrender. That isn’t to say he didn’t secretly text the other band members to peep in the backseat at the pair. 

If looks could kill, Minho would have murdered the entire car, but Chan hammered the nail into his own coffin with a smile.

+++

The sound of shifting and a bright light brought Jisung out of his deep sleep. The fabric of his duvet felt rougher than usual, cold in some places, but it was still very warm. He still felt that wave of exhaustion over his body, and he clung to the warmth with both hands.

“How do you plan to get him out of here?” He heard a familiar voice whisper from several feet away. He subconsciously curled further into the warmth, hoping Hyunjoon would shut his guest up.

“Just go the hell home and let me deal with this,” Another familiar voice piped up, and the warmth encapsulating his left arm briefly left, but returned just as fast, “now shoo!”

His brain was slow, but it put two-and-two together much faster than Jisung was ready for. His eyes flew open and he flew backwards from the addicting warmth. Minho just looked at him with tired eyes, and then down at his hands still fisting the bassist’s graphic t-shirt. 

He was not in his dorm, nor in his bed and the reason his duvet felt cold and rough was because it was not a duvet. It was a shirt and someone happened to be wearing it. Not just anyone,  _ Minho  _ happened to be wearing it.

Jisung scrambled backwards, forgetting they were in the backseats until his back collided with the leather. Minho didn’t react, neither to Jisung’s spazzing nor the fact that the heels of his feet were digging into his thighs. 

“I can't tell if you had a weird dream or if you are always this jittery after waking up. I don’t really care either, let’s go.” Minho tried to pick up Jisung’s feet and move them, but the younger was in such an awkward position, he drove his heels in harder to keep his ass from hitting the floorboard. Minho glared.

“Problem?” He asked, impatient as usual. Jisung bit his lip, unsure of how to casually shift out of this position. Minho ran a hand over his face, punching the bridge of his nose with his eyes tightly screwed shut. “You’re stuck, aren’t you?”

Jisung once again did not reply, but he didn’t need to. Minho wasn’t actually asking. The older of the two inhaled deeply, mumbling to himself a string of words Jisung didn't catch. 

“You need my help, don’t you?” Minho still didn’t look at him and Jisung still didn’t answer. His silence must have been enough, because Minho leaned forward, grabbed both of Jisung’s arms and yanked him directly into his lap. A much more awake Jisung would have realized he was straddling him now, and a much more careful Minho would have pushed him off immediately instead of sitting there unbothered.

Jisung was frozen, too scared to move and too scared to act like this was all a big part of some joke. Minho didn’t seem to have the energy either, because he stared back, eyes completely unguarded and emotions swimming in them. It was the most reaction Jisung had seen from him. 

“What the fuck are you two—Oh my fucking sweet jesus. Now? Really? This is a company van!” Jisung wasn’t sure which of them moved first, or if Minho had thrown him to the side or if he’d jumped, but either way they were detached in seconds. Seungmin stood outside the van with his bag on his shoulder, disappointed and unamused. 

“I don’t have the slightest clue what you’re still doing here.” Minho replied, face and voice both void of any emotion once again. Seungmin just grimaced, tossing both their bags at them. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but decided it wasn’t worth his time. He left with a muttered “I hate gay people.”

“Bold words coming from a homosexual.” Minho commented loud enough for Seungmin to hear it and received a casual middle finger in response. He grabbed his bag and slipped out of the van, picking up Jisung’s too on the way out.

The drummer groaned and lifted himself off the leather seats, tripping on his way out of the van. He was still so tired and his arms ached, but he still had to figure out how to get home. He could catch the late bus, or call a taxi. He would just have to hope he didn’t fall asleep on the way. 

“Come on,” Minho tugged at the strap of his bag, “we don’t have all night.” He didn’t say anything else, just slung his own bag over his shoulder and began to walk toward a black car parked on the side of the street in front of the building. Jisung was confused, but he followed.

Minho opened the back door to the car and stood back, gesturing for Jisung to climb inside. Jisung recognized the car now. It was Changbin’s car, the same one he’d picked Minho up in. 

Jisung didn’t move, he just stared at Minho. This was the third time the older had thought of him in advance, had made plans for getting him home safely. The second time he’d roped Changbin into it too.

“We have to sleep too, Sungie. Get in.” Minho tossed his bag on the floorboard and moved to the other side of the car with the door still open. Jisung was too tired to even attempt to protest. He tossed his bag beside Minho’s and laid across the backseats of the car.

The car ride wasn’t long, and neither of his bandmates asked him many questions. He dozed off a few times, gauging where they were by how the car moved. The boys kept themselves awake with soft chatter, mostly arguing about trivial things like which house plant to get and if they could afford a new couch. 

The car slowed to a stop and Jisung leaned down to retrieve his bag. Minho turned around in the passenger's seat, watching Jisung climb out of the car. He followed.

“What are you doing?” Jisung sleepily asked, a headache starting to form. Minho looked at him like he was insane.

“You’re almost dead on your feet, I’m making sure you actually make it to your dorm room.” Minho rolled his eyes and didn’t leave any room for discussion. Jisung almost argued with him, but decided against it. It wouldn’t do much good anyway. 

They walked across campus in comfortable silence, and when Jisung reached the doors of his dorm, he bid Minho goodnight and took the elevator up. 

He almost collapsed by the time he reached his dorm. Hyunjoon was still up, typing a paper that was probably due last week. He didn’t even turn when Jisung entered the room, didn’t flinch or anything. 

“Welcome home, loser.” Hyunjoon greeted, popping another skittle into his mouth. Jisung wiped at his makeup and ran a hand through his hair to force the hairspray out as much as he could.

“How’d you know it was me?”

“Your boyfriend is waiting down at the courtyard to make sure you made it inside.” 

Jisung turned, his jacket hanging halfway off his arms as he rushed over to the window in between their desks. Sure enough, Minho was peering up at his window and he smiled lazily when he saw Jisung’s face through it. He raised his hand and waved, waiting for Jisung to mirror the action before turning back to the car.

“You two are weird.” Hyunjoon teased, dodging the pillow that flew at his face. Jisung dropped onto his bed and curled around his actual duvet, which admittedly was not as warm as laying on Minho had been. Before he could even muster a retort, he was out like a light. 

+++

They were back in the studio first thing Monday. Jisung skipped three classes in favor of heading to practice early that morning. He admitted it wasn’t a good idea, his grades couldn’t stay afloat by themselves for much longer, but he could sacrifice today. His senior friends didn’t think so, judging by the way they constantly flooded his texts all day long. 

He was able to tune it out for most of the practices but around lunch time, they started to get irritating. He sent them all a quick text back, apologizing for messaging back so late and made up the excuse of being sick. 

Almost ten minutes later, he got a text from his roommate. 

_ You are not sick, you fucking lying jackass.  _

Jisung could hear the mock anger through the screen. He flopped down on the couch in the studio next to Chan and texted back.

_ Cover for me, just this once? _

Hyunjoon responded immediately.

_ “Just this once” my ass, Ji. If they come to the dorm looking for your “sick” pathetic self, I will not be there. _

Jisung perked up at that, knowing full well what that meant.

_ Ooooh. Might I ask why? _

_ No. _

_ Sunwoo? _

_ Go to hell. _

_ Been there, done that. It’s boring. _

_ I hope you get hit by a bus on the way back. _

_ A bus? Couldn’t you be more creative? Like a train? _

Hyunjoon didn’t respond and Jisung considered that battle a personal win. Chan was leaning over his shoulder before Jisung could think to exit out of his messages. A knowing grin on the brunet’s face meant he’d read everything. 

Minho had stepped out a few minutes ago to stop by Allen’s official office. Now, with Seungmin and Changbin arguing in the booth and out of earshot, Chan didn’t even hesitate.

“Strange relationship you got there,” He said, smirk evident in his voice, “I’ve heard of open relationships, but I’m not sure if I know how they work.” 

Jisung groaned and Chan laughed loudly, leaning back against the couch and slinging his arm over the back. He fixed Jisung with an expectant look. “Care to explain?”

“Uh,” Jisung did not even know where to begin, “Hyunjoon isn’t my boyfriend.” 

Chan chuckled, “Yeah. Yeah, I think I gathered that.”

Jisung glanced back at his phone, his brain already working on a lie to cover this. It was no use though, and he knew that. Any lie he told, Chan would see right through it and the messages already gave away too much. 

“Minho  _ thinks _ Hyunjoon is my boyfriend.”

Chan hummed and a look of deep thought crossed his features. He stared straight ahead for a moment and his eyebrows rose as if he was considering something he didn’t care to voice out loud.

“Did you tell him Hyunjoon was your boyfriend?” He finally asked, still thinking the new information over. Jisung shook his head, but that wasn’t enough but the way Chan stayed silent.

“I don’t know where he got that assumption. I didn’t correct him though.” 

Chan looked pleasantly surprised at that, and finally turned towards Jisung once more. There was a mischievous grin on his face, subtle but still there. 

“To be honest, we all thought you were lying when you said you  _ weren’t  _ dating your roommate who you text all the time. But I gave you the benefit of the doubt and thought maybe you were just shy about it.” Chan tapped his chin, trying to figure out how to put his thoughts into words, “The show the other night convinced me otherwise. You two are too friendly to be dating, if that makes any sense.” 

It did not make any sense but Jisung didn’t have any interest in dragging the conversation out longer than need be. He nodded, hoping to drop the subject and wait for Minho to return, but Chan didn’t have the same plans.

“Why not correct him?” The leader asked, the innocence in his voice fawned and contradictory. Jisung wasn’t sure where he was going with this, but he didn’t like it. “Why let him think you had a boyfriend?”

Jisung knew one way or another, he was going to have to admit the truth. “He seemed… jealous of Hyunjoon. Like he made a comment about how close we were or something like that, and it was interesting. You know, he pretends not to care about anything but he didn’t seem to like the idea.” 

Chan tried to hide his smirk, but he failed miserably. He coughed into his fist, trying to mask the laughter beneath that Jisung still caught. He couldn’t understand why Chan was reacting like this, but he also didn’t want to ask and drag it out.

“Tell me, Sung, why do you think Minho didn’t like the idea?” 

Jisung looked at him incredulously. 

“Because Hyunjoon is my best friend? I figure it was his competitive streak, that he didn’t like not being first at something.” Jisung answered truthfully, but his confusion only deepened when Chan let out a howling laugh.

“Wait, so let me get this—“ He paused and giggled, “—straight. You think Minho doesn’t like your cuddly roommate because he… wants to be your best friend? To prove that he’s the best?” 

Jisung didn’t understand what was so funny. “Yes?” He answered anyway. Chan laughed again, though nearly out of breath it came out as more of a wheeze. 

“Oh, man. You really are hopeless.” Chan was still chuckling, and before Jisung could ask what he meant by that, the studio door opened. Minho and Allen walked in with a stack of files in their hands. They sat them down on Allen’s desk against the other wall and Minho flicked Jisung in the forehead as he ducked into the booth. 

Jisung followed him inside not even a second later, bickering about his lack of manners and letting the conversation with Chan be pushed to the back of his mind. 

+++

Practice the next day was less eventful. He didn’t skip any of his classes and actually caught up on schoolwork instead of heading to the studio early. Hyunjoon threatened to beat him if he skipped any more classes, but he was convinced his roommate simply didn’t want to get dragged into covering for him again. 

Chan didn’t mention the conversation from the day before, and Seungmin and Changbin showed no signs of having overheard it. They joked around during breaks as usual, but worked diligently when they rehearsed. There was still a super fast part in Fool that he struggled on and it was difficult to move his hands back to the right positions in time, but he managed. 

Chan decided to call it quits earlier than usual and that shocked Jisung. Chan usually was willing to work until he dropped, but tonight he was ending it before it was even ten at night. 

Jisung was tucking his sticks into his bag when he heard footsteps approaching and he looked up to see Minho leaning against the wall beside his set. He didn’t say anything, just watched Jisung zip up his bag and slip on his jacket.

“Do you need something?” Jisung asked, fighting back a grin when Minho rolled his eyes at his attitude. 

“You doing anything tonight?” 

Jisung was taken aback by that question, but he recovered quick enough to shake his head. Minho ran a hand through his hair, twisting his bracelets around on his wrists.

“Good,” He said, “you’re coming with us.” 

Jisung knew it was probably better than to ask, and he agreed much easier than any of them expected him to. Chan clapped his hands together and ordered them all to find a designated driver for getting home tonight, and Jisung instinctively looked to Minho. The bassist saw it and flicked his forehead yet again.

Somehow, Jisung knew tonight would  _ not _ be a normal outing. 

+++

Changbin’s car brought them outside of a club, the line moving fairly quickly and strobe lights leaking out onto the street. The bouncer hardly looked at the IDs before waving people through, occasionally stopping to mark an “X” on someone’s hand. Changbin parked across the street, and each of them filed out of the car. 

“We have some people here we want you to meet.” Chan whispered to Jisung as they stood in line. He’d already met Felix and as far as he knew, Chan and Changbin were single. He ended up not responding and when they got to the bouncer, he waved them all through.

The club was loud from the outside but that was nothing compared to the blaring on the inside. It was hard to hear anything besides the bass-boosted track pounding in his ears. He could understand why people would drink so much when this was the environment they were in. 

The dance floor was packed for a Tuesday night, and the bar was still busy, but their group didn’t head for either of those. Instead, Chan waved them to a booth in the back of the room, set away from most of the chaos. Two boys Jisung didn’t recognize sat at the table beside Felix, who was so lost in their conversation, he didn’t notice the band entering.

The blond looked up when Seungmin dropped into the seat beside him and he instantly grinned ten times brighter. Changbin took the other seat beside them and Minho sat by one of the unfamiliar boys.

One of them was taller, with long brown hair and a beauty mark under his eye. He was pretty and he had a cute smile. His arm was wrapped around the shoulders of the smaller boy, who’s hair looked pink and had certain facial features like a fox. Jisung slid in behind Minho and Chan took the outside. 

“Jisung, this is our friend Hyunjin,” He gestured to the taller of the two and Hyunjin grinned and waved, “and Jeongin.” 

Jeongin smiled brightly and reached out to shake Jisung’s hand almost immediately despite Jisung not having offered it. The boy had a strong grip and he hoped his wince was covered by the booming bass. 

“Jeongin was our old drummer.” Chan informed, once Jeongin let go of his hand, and Jisung immediately understood why they had wanted him to meet the boy. Jeongin just smiled again. 

“So, you’re the new drummer I’ve been hearing all about.” Jeongin wasn’t asking, but Jisung still nodded his head in answer. “I haven’t had a chance to come see one of your shows, but I’m going to try to make it to the next one.”

“Oh, thank you.” Jisung said. He wasn’t quite sure how to reply, but thank you seemed like it was due. Luckily, Jeongin didn’t think it was weird and he quickly got roped into conversation with Minho. 

“It’s actually impressive,” Hyunjin commented, addressing Jisung from across the table. He took a sip of his drink before continuing, “after Jeongin, we weren’t sure the band would be able to find another drummer.” 

“Oh.” Jisung blinked, “Yeah. I’ve—uh—heard that. Quite a few times, actually.” He chuckled nervously. Hyunjin smirked, looking between him and Minho.

“Well, we all know who’s fault  _ that  _ is, don't we?” His teasing halted Minho’s conversation with Jeongin and the aforementioned boy leaned back in his seat. 

“What was that, Jinnie?” Minho’s voice was sickening sweet, in the way that meant he must’ve had ill intentions. Hyunjin met his stare head-on, much like in the way Jisung himself tried to when they bantered.

“I said you’re a pain in the ass.” Hyunjin said, not lacking any confidence as he stared down the bassist. Jisung heard Minho chuckle dryly. 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” 

It was Hyunjin’s turn to laugh, and he kept his gaze focused on Minho even as he took another sip. Jisung glanced at the rest of the table, but they all seemed completely unphased by what was going on.

“Of course you wouldn't think it was. You practically live for other people’s displeasure.” Hyunjin bit back and the two entered a silent staring contest. Just as Jisung was starting to feel very uncomfortable, Minho, the madman that he was, began to laugh. Hyunjin split into his own light-hearted grin.

“How does this kid put up with you, or any kid for that matter.” Hyunjin laughed, his voice much lighter and playful than before. Jisung didn’t even realize he was holding his breath, but it felt good to exhale. 

“Jisung happens to adore me, don't you, Sungie?” Minho slung an arm around his shoulder, pulling him flush against his side. Jisung fought his own body to keep the blush off his cheeks. To distract himself, he pulled a face and whacked at Minho’s hand on his shoulder.

“Whatever you say, asshat.” He replied, and was surprised to find his voice stayed level. Minho noticed his fighting and pulled him closer in a side-hug of sorts that lasted only a second before he released him. 

“Yeah, Minho. Looks like he really just can’t get enough of ya.” Hyunjin laughed and waved down a waiter. 

“He’s just holding back because you’re here.” Minho retorted as the waiter came over and took their drink orders.

“Oh, is he?” Hyunjin’s snarky taunting did nothing to break Minho’s confidence and Jisung briefly wondered how long they’d been friends. They seemed to be very comfortable with each other.

“Yeah, your face is ruining the mood.” Minho grinned as he said it, like he’d been waiting to use that card since they’d walked in. It wasn’t true, obviously, but Minho still played it. Hyunjin shook his head, chuckling.

“I don’t think the mood was there to begin with.” 

Minho rolled his eyes and casually slung his arm around the back of Jisung’s seat. His eyes danced in a familiar mischief, the kind that always had Jisung on the edge of his seat to see what he’d do next. Apparently, he got his answer fairly quick. 

“You wouldn’t know.” Minho smiled and Jisung was confused for a split second. That was, until Seungmin decided to jump in.

“I would,” He piped up, sending a short-lived glare to both of them, “I happened to be the one sent back to the van Saturday night.” 

Jisung panicked when he realized what Seungmin was alluding to. He hadn’t even thought about it since that night, and Seungmin hadn’t brought it up. 

“That was nothing,” Minho laughed and his voice hinted at there being more. There wasn’t more, Jisung knew that, but it didn’t stop him from whirling on Minho with an expression that clearly screamed “shut the fuck up.” Minho seemed nothing less than utterly delighted at his reaction.

“Disgusting.” Hyunjin remarked and leaned into Jeongin’s side to shield his eyes. The pink-haired boy giggled and patted his head. The action only encouraged Hyunjin to cuddle him more.

“Try not to gross out my boyfriend before he's at least buzzed. I’ll never hear the end of it.” Jeongin pleaded, and grinned at the whine of protest Hyunjin made against his shoulder. 

“Oh, that shouldn’t gross him out at all, considering—“

“Lee Minho, I will rip your tongue out of your head if you say another word.” Hyunjin shot him a glare and Minho responded with a cheeky wink. Jeongin simply grimaced and moved to take a drink of whatever Hyunjin had.

Jisung felt Chan lean into his side, and whisper in his ear. “Hyunjin and Minho used to be a thing, years ago.” The provided context did nothing good for Jisung, who blinked a few times before it all clicked together. He twisted in his seat to keep from shouting.

“They what?” He had to force himself to keep his voice level and casual, he didn’t want to catch Minho’s attention. Chan shrugged and nodded, jutting his chin toward the two. 

“There’s no bad blood between them or anything, it was several years ago and Minho introduced Hyunjin to Jeongin. It all worked out.” Chan took a sip of his own drink and made sure nobody was listening in on their conversation.

“I don’t know if “it all worked out” is how I would describe it. How do you just casually have a thing with your best friend?”

“You’ve got everyone at this table except me convinced that you’re doing the same thing.” Chan countered and Jisung instantly decided to shut his mouth. Chan fixed him with a satisfied grin and went back to pulling Felix into conversation. 

The conversation continued in small groups for a few more minutes, but eventually, Felix had roped Chan into hitting the dance floor and Changbin disappeared into the crowd moments later. Jisung had to move out of the booth to let Jeongin out to go to the bathroom and Minho slipped out as well, saying he was going to hit the bar.

Seungmin, Hyunjin and Jisung remained at the table, and the silver-haired boy did his best to act casual. Hyunjin’s piercing gaze on him did not help to ease his nerves and he half-expected an interrogation to follow. Hyunjin shifted in the booth to move closer to Jisung and even still, he leaned over the table for good measure. 

“So,” He started, eyes swiping over Jisung lazily, “How are you  _ really  _ holding up with him?” It was not the question Jisung was expecting and it took him several moments to figure out who Hyunjin was talking about.

“What do you mean?” He asked and Hyunjin raised an eyebrow at him like he was missing a point. Perhaps he was, because Hyunjin leaned back and sent a look to Seungmin, who seemed mostly unbothered by their conversation.

“Look, Minho’s my best friend,” Hyunjin leaned forward again, and Jisung mentally prepared himself for some kind of warning, “I would jump in front of a bullet for him—“

Hyunjin was cut off by Seungmin adding, “You’d jump in front of a bullet for fun.”

“Shut the hell up, Seungmin.” Hyunjin retorted, kicking Seungmin’s leg from under the table. “ _ But  _ he can be a handful. Scratch that, he  _ is  _ a handful.”

Jisung thought about what Hyunjin was saying. It was true, Minho could be a lot at one time, but he wasn’t overwhelming or disrespectful, he was just different. It was push and pull with him, but Jisung never minded his antics as much as everybody else seemed to.

“He’s… interesting.” He settled on saying. He didn’t want to get defensive over him just yet, after all, he was speaking to Minho’s best friend, a man who probably knew him better than Jisung ever would. Still, he was wary about where this conversation was heading.

Hyunjin snorted at his answer. “That’s the nicest way I’ve ever heard anybody describe him. I’m just saying, don’t take it too personally if he gives you an unnecessarily hard time.” 

“Jisung doesn’t need your therapeutic advice, Jin.” Seungmin joined their conversation, using his straw to move ice around in his glass, “It just so happens, Minho warmed up to Jisung very quickly.” 

“Oh?” Hyunjin looked in between them, obviously in disbelief. He appeared to be thinking, and then he looked to Jisung with a playfully analytical smile, “I thought something was off about him. I just figured he’d been drinking already.”

“Nope!” Seungmin was all too happy to contribute, “He’s just  _ really  _ comfortable with Jisung. Right,  _ Sungie?” _ Seungmin put emphasis on the nickname that seemed to exclusively be used by Minho himself. Jisung knew what Seungmin was referencing and he could feel his face turn red as they both awaited his response.

“Uh—“

“I’m going to go find my boyfriend.” Seungmin excused himself rather cheerfully, seemingly having gotten what he wanted. Now, he was alone with Hyunjin and it appeared the taller boy had some questions. 

“So, what I’m hearing is, if this isn’t a dream, is that Minho didn’t give you a difficult time?” 

Jisung shrugged. “Not much of one. He was irritating at first, but that’s just his personality and I needed to get used to it.” He felt compelled to add, “He's a good person.”

Hyunjin’s eyebrows shot to his hairline and he slowly nodded. Jisung didn’t miss the smirk that played on his lips, but he chose to ignore it. 

“Oh really?” Hyunjin responded, and Jisung really couldn’t help himself from spewing out his thoughts.

“Yeah. Everybody always comments on how long I’ve stayed with the band and they always say something about Minho being difficult to work with, but he’s not. He’s just… Minho.” 

He paused to look at Hyunjin’s expression and the brunet was chewing his bottom lip, eyes focused on Jisung, considering him and his words. There was a look in them that Jisung wished he could decipher, but the low lighting didn’t allow for it.

“Just Minho?” Hyunjin questioned and Jisung nodded, “Interesting.” 

Silence enveloped them and Jisung thought the conversation was over. He didn’t mind Hyunjin, from their earlier interactions, he seemed very sweet, but the conversation about Minho seemed to be heading down a road Jisung was completely unfamiliar with.

As if on cue, Hyunjin asked a question. “He flirts with you, doesn't he?” 

Jisung choked on his water. “I don’t know.” He stuttered out, grabbing a napkin from the table. Hyunjin didn’t pay any mind to his slip up.

“Oh come on. Does he get in your face, invite you places, seem to seek you out to annoy the shit out of you?” Hyunjin listed these things off so casually, and Jisung thought back on all his interactions with their bassist. 

“Yeah… I guess so.” 

Hyunjin hummed, then he broke out into the widest grin of the night. He wrapped an arm around Jisung’s shoulders, and shook the drummer a few times. “Jisung, I think you’re my new best friend.” He said and Jisung exhaled. 

“Speaking of Minho, where is he?” He realized he hadn’t seen the older boy for a while and a trip to the bar shouldn’t take  _ that  _ long. Hyunjin didn’t seem concerned.

“Oh, he’s at the bar, searching for tonight’s victim.” Hyunjin waved a hand, and went to sip his drink, not noticing Jisung’s expression. 

“Tonight’s what?” He asked and Hyunjin laughed at the look on his face.

“Minho has a system. He goes to the bar, orders something inexpensive to drink and then combs through the bodies on the floor. When he finds one he likes, he makes himself seen. He never makes the first move though, and that mystery factor is what always gets his ass in trouble.” Hyunjin shook his head, probably reminiscing on times Jisung wasn’t there to see.

“He hangs out with us for a little while, making sure to keep his target’s interest with lingering glances and smiles and then he’ll make sure they see him when he steps away from the group. They seek him out and we won’t hear from him until morning when he calls us from some god awful apartment complex across town looking for a ride.” The way he spoke made Jisung think this was a normal occurrence for them, and he pushed down the worry bubbling in his throat.

“But he came with us tonight, don’t you think he’ll skip the whole scene?” Jisung hoped the answer was yes and deep down, he knew why that was, but he’d keep ignoring it until it became a problem.

“Minho never leaves the club alone. Never has and never will. It’s routine. But don’t worry about him, he can take perfect care of himself. I worry for whoever he sets his sights on tonight.”

“Yeah…” Jisung looked towards the bar, trying to spot the dark blue hair in a sea of bodies and unrecognizable faces. He felt very uneasy, but forced himself to remain nonchalant. 

He heard Hyunjin sigh and when he looked back at him, he was watching Jisung with a look of pity. 

“I’m only going to say this one time because I don’t like to be serious on nights that I’m supposed to be getting tanked,” He said, and glanced toward where Jisung had been looking only moments before, “Please watch out for yourself. Getting attached to Minho is... never good. These flirtations and sweet nonsense, it’s all part of a game to him, and you’re either a player or an automatic loser.” 

Jisung thought back to when he’d first met Minho, when he’d run into practice late because he ran into one of his hookups. He remembered how easily everybody had brushed it off, how normal it seemed to them. How normal it seemed to Minho.

“I love him to death,” Hyunjin continued, “but I’ve experienced first hand what being foolish gets you.” He didn’t sound bitter when he said it, he didn’t even look sad, but Jisung understood perfectly well what those words meant. Hyunjin was looking out for him, because even if there was nothing left of it now, he’d been where Jisung sat. And apparently, it never ended well.

“Thanks,” Jisung said, and he took a deep breath, “but don’t worry about me.”

He made up his mind then. Jisung had an interest in people, he viewed everything like one big chess game, and Jisung was undefeated in chess. If Minho wanted to play, Jisung would play him. 

“I know how to play games too.” 


	2. The Art of Winning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lee Minho is in for the ride of his life with this one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had to split this up because it was too long so enjoy part 2.

Jeongin came back first, flopping down next to Hyunjin and beginning his tangent about club bathrooms. Hyunjin listened intently and kept his undivided attention on him the entire time. Jisung thought it was sweet, and he wondered just how long they’d been together.

Seungmin and Felix came back next, Chan and Changbin in tow. Nobody questioned where Minho was. Jisung tried to shake that from his thoughts and instead focused on Felix knocking down shots like the world was ending. He was on his seventh when Minho came back, holding two red drinks. He sat one in front of Jisung.

“The bar was fucking ridiculous.” He groaned, climbing over Chan and Jisung instead of waiting for them to move. Hyunjin rolled his eyes and quirked an eyebrow.

“Sure it was.” He commented and the table softly chuckled. Minho made a face and hit Hyunjin upside the head. The brunet looked to his boyfriend, who just shrugged. 

“I’m serious. You order a virgin drink and it’s like you get pushed to the very back of the line.” He shook his head as he picked up his drink, taking a sip and stirring it around with his straw. The table all stared at him with different looks of disbelief.

“ _ You _ ordered a virgin drink?” Changbin asked, glancing back and forth between Minho and the bar, like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. “Since when do you come out to get anything  _ but  _ hammered?” 

“Not for me, dickhead,” Minho jutted his thumb towards Jisung, “for him.” 

Jisung blinked several times before turning to look up at Minho. He noticed their glasses were shaped differently and his was definitely more red than Minho’s. It was a subtle difference, but you could see it if you looked hard enough. 

Minho met his gaze and gestured to the drink, like it was so obvious and Jisung was just stupid. Jisung was beginning to believe he might actually be with how many times he’d seen that look. 

“You mentioned in the car that you have class tomorrow. I figured that meant you didn’t want to drink a lot.” He shrugged and pushed the glass toward Jisung, who wrapped both his hands around it and took a sip. Not a trace of alcohol.

”You would be right. Thank you.” 

Minho nodded, choosing to ignore the doubtful expressions of their friends around the table. Jisung was about to attempt to change the subject, but the table wouldn’t let him.

“Wait, you were actually at the bar all that time? Just waiting for a drink?” Changbin asked and Jisung thought he looked kind of dumb with his eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Minho nod.

“And nobody bought anything for you?” Hyunjin piped up, looking equally as stunned as Changbin, if not more so. He was clearly in a state of shock or distrust, Jisung couldn’t tell which.

“They did.” 

“And?” Hyunjin added, his voice way louder than it needed to be. Minho fixed him with a bored look. 

“And nothing. I had already placed my order.” That was enough sign for them to drop it for now, though Hyunjin didn’t seem to want to give in so easily. The topic would be brought up again later, probably in private, if the glint in his eyes said anything of meaning. 

Despite what Hyunjin had said, Minho didn’t make any moves to seclude himself from the group, he didn’t even go to the bathroom alone and he didn’t hit the bar without somebody accompanying him. Hyunjin was on his feet in seconds after Minho announced he was getting more drinks and needed a hand.

Jisung would’ve assumed Hyunjin was either wrong or lying if the rest of the table didn’t look just as bewildered. He chose to play ignorant, not really caring to hear about how Minho would be stumbling out of the door with someone on his arm by now.

Minho was still stumbling though, even after they’d drank their way through their paychecks and had moved onto tabs. And when Felix had to be dragged to the bathroom to keep his insides from spilling out, the chaos really began.

Chan got lost somewhere on the dance floor and Minho said to just leave it. Chan would dance until the lights came up and then he’d go home to get two hours of sleep and bullshit his way through his schoolwork before hitting the studio again. It was like a fun game he liked to play with himself.

Hyunjin and Jeongin disappeared for a while too, but they were found rather quickly in the hallway leading to the exit. Jisung exited the hallway right after seeing what was going on, choosing to step away before he waited too long and had to see anything else. 

Changbin had gone missing at some point and Jisung dragged a hardly conscious Minho around the club looking for him. They found Seungmin walking out of the bathrooms, Felix draped over both of his shoulders and completely knocked out.

“Bin called Allen to come pick him up, said he’d get his car in the morning when he can drive.” Seungmin told them, glancing at a giggly Minho with an unimpressed gaze. Jisung wrestled with the older boy to get him to stay still. 

“You mean he just left his roommate here?” Jisung twisted his arm in a very uncomfortable position to keep a hold on the bassist. Seungmin shrugged, jostling Felix a little.

“He probably thought Minho was at home already in his drunken spur. He’ll feel bad in the morning. Maybe.” 

Before he could ask another question, Seungmin grabbed Jisung’s phone and entered his number, followed immediately by a text from him with Minho’s address. He wished him good luck and scrambled through the several bodies blocking the entrance to the street. 

Jisung dragged Minho that way, finding him significantly more difficult than he appeared to be. Minho pulled against every push Jisung gave, and if his giggly nature said anything, he was enjoying it. 

By the time Jisung had got him out on the street, he was exhausted. Minho was still laughing, throwing his head back to the night sky and spinning around with his arms held out. 

“Sorry to ruin your impressive streak, but we’ve got to get you home.” Jisung looked at the address on his phone and pulled up his maps app. It wasn’t a very long walk, but it would be longer if he didn’t manage to get a hold of Minho.

“You didn’t ruin anything. Lee Minho never leaves the club alone.” Minho, drunk off his ass and referring to himself in third person, should not have looked so endearing under the harsh street lamps. Jisung pushed the thought away in favor of guiding him down the street.

“You’re leaving alone today, Min.” He gave a harsh tug at the other’s wrist and was glad to find little resistance.

“I’m not alone.” Minho looked at him with sparkling eyes, his pupils dilated and even more starry than usual. Jisung would probably drop dead in the street if he wasn’t increasingly worried about Minho getting home. 

He led them down two or three blocks and once they reached a mostly vacant street, Minho was starting to tire.

“Why didn’t you just call me a taxi?” Minho whined and put all of his body weight on Jisung’s shoulder. The younger struggled to keep them both on their feet. 

“I wasn’t going to put you alone in a car with a stranger when you’re drunk.” Jisung shook his head, honestly surprised the older would even think he would. He knew Minho wouldn’t do that to him, sober or dead. 

Jisung started to turn the corner, but Minho slumped against the wall instead, groaning about how much his feet hurt and sliding down to sit on the ground. Jisung mentally face-palmed.

He hooked two arms under the other’s shoulders, pulling him up. “Come on, we need to get you to bed.” He hoped that would appeal to Minho.

“I’m not sleepy.” Apparently, it didn’t.

“And  _ I’m _ not dealing with your ass when you’re hungover  _ and  _ sleep-deprived.” Jisung fought his dead weight for another few moments, before deciding to turn Minho around and throw him over his right shoulder. Minho squealed at the sudden adjustment.

“Hey,” Minho pounded his fist against Jisung’s lower back with a lack of energy and strength, “I’m not into manhandling.” Jisung almost stopped and just left Minho in the drain for the night, but he thought better of it at the last second. 

“Jesus christ.” He muttered and continued walking, fastening his arms around the back of Minho’s thighs. Every step he took had the boy bouncing in some way, though he couldn’t rule out the possibility of Minho intentionally smacking his body against Jisung’s back.

“You’re always soooo sweet.” Minho slurred, “Like a strawberry, a little strawberry squirrel.”

“Wow,” Jisung sarcastically remarked, choosing to ignore the first comment, “he puts Shakespeare to shame.” He both heard and felt Minho chuckle against him. 

“That’s what I like about you,” Minho continued, much to Jisung’s dismay. He didn’t need to hear this, Minho didn’t need to say things he didn’t mean when he couldn’t even control what was coming out of his mouth, but he still pressed on. “You just keep giving me the benefit of the doubt. Over and over. I think I could probably throw boiling water on you and you’d find a way to forgive me.”

Jisung snorted, but he secretly knew it was probably true. “Please stop talking.” He replied, monotonous. He really didn’t want to hear anymore drunk confessions from the older, comparing him to things like strawberries and John Mulaney jokes that were timeless.

Minho had other plans. “Hyunjin told me at the bar that you think I’m a good person.” He paused to laugh, ”I wouldn’t have believed that fucker if he told me anybody else had said it.”

Jisung stopped in his tracks, reaching behind him and raising two fingers to test the waters. “Minho, how many fingers am I holding up?”

Minho replied without hesitation, “Ninety-three.”

A sigh rippled through his body and he knew Minho felt it too. He wondered briefly, if only for a moment, if Minho would remember the things he said in the morning. The answer was most likely no, because Minho had already said too much. Sober Minho would lose his mind if he ever admitted to thinking fondly of Jisung.

“Minho,” He tried again, just to be sure, “do you know where you are right now?” He stopped in front of the street sign to give him an indicator. Palms pushed into his back as Minho lifted himself up from his potato-sack position to gaze around at the empty darkness.

“New Zealand.”

Jisung pursed his lips together in an attempt to keep himself composed. He talked himself out of just leaving Minho face-down on the street. He wouldn’t survive, Jisung told himself and that’s the only reason he continued his trek to the older’s apartment.

“Not even close.” He responded and shifted the boy as delicately as he could on his shoulder. His arm was starting to ache from the weight and he wondered how Seungmin carried Felix so easily out of the club.

Minho flopped against his back, his fingers playing with the loose threads on Jisung’s jeans. It tickled, but Jisung decided to let him entertain himself for a little while longer. It only kept him occupied for a few minutes. Drunk people were like toddlers.

“I wonder about you sometimes.” Minho mumbled, twirling a stray thread around his finger and pulling until it ripped off. He wove the thread in between his fingers and then let it drop to the concrete. Jisung cocked an eyebrow, even though he knew Minho couldn’t see it.

“Why? About what?” Deep down, he knew it was better to ignore the bassist, knew that nothing he said while horribly intoxicated could be taken to heart. And yet, he wanted to know.

“You’re so hot and cold all the time.” Minho slurred, slapping the back of Jisung’s kneecap and almost making his knees buckle, “You’re flirty and confident but then like a split second later, you’re shy and don’t want to talk.” 

He gulped. He was half-aware that his mood tended to shift, but he’d always hoped it wasn’t that obvious. Jisung thought if he chose not to acknowledge it, nobody else would notice or think anything weird about him. He’d been wrong or Minho had been stupidly observant.

“You’re not seriously trying to say I’m the complicated one.” He shot back, but his nervous laugh fell short. It was a poor attempt to change the subject, or at least derail it from himself, but he tried.

“You  _ are  _ complicated.” Minho scoffed and went back to playing with the threads on his pants. 

“You’re no better.” 

“I never said I was.”

Jisung considered their situation for a moment. He didn’t talk about it, mostly because it seemed like a stupid thing to talk about. As long as nobody noticed his internal crisis, there was no need to explain and he was more than happy to not explain. However, Minho had noticed and his drunk version was asking for an explanation. But he was drunk and wouldn’t remember anything that wasn’t the inside of a toilet bowl by tomorrow, so Jisung took the risk.

“I’m only going to tell you this because I know you will not remember it tomorrow.” He decided to add that disclaimer at the last minute, more for his own consolation.

“Ooh, secret time?” Minho sounded delighted to be pulling some kind of answers from the drummer. Jisung couldn’t help but feel at a disadvantage, but he didn’t know what or how.

He took a deep breath before starting his story, “In high school, I didn’t have many friends.” 

“Shocker.” Minho cut in, his voice laced with sarcasm that mirrored Sober Minho much too well. Jisung slapped the back of his thigh in protest and Minho let out a drunk giggle.

“Shut up. People still approached me out of politeness or something and I would usually find myself playing into the stereotype of what they were like, the type of people they liked. I was considered popular because I was a people-pleaser.

“But once graduation rolled around and I couldn’t stand to be in that town much longer, I came here. In college, people want to know who  _ you  _ are, not who you try to fit the mold to be. I don't really know who I am, and I struggle to make friends because of it. Sometimes I still catch myself playing the role I think people want me to, like on stage when we talk to the crowd and I'm this confident and narcissistic drummer. It's easy to get lost in someone you aren’t when you don’t know who you are.” 

It was silent for an eternity after Jisung finished what he wanted to say. He knew Minho was still awake, because there was still the pull of threads in his jeans every so often. His footsteps were the only noise for miles.

“Sounds like that fuckin’ blows,” Minho finally broke the silence and his brash comment had Jisung bursting into unexpected laughter, “I cannot relate.”

Jisung shook his head, not even bothering to fight the smile on his face. “I didn’t think you could.”

Jisung was perfectly content with leaving it at that. He turned into a street not too far away from Minho’s apartment and hoped the boy stayed awake long enough to help Jisung find his apartment number. 

“I wasn’t liked in high school,” Minho said and Jisung almost stopped right there, “People liked the idea that I was going to be in a chart-topping band, but that didn’t last very long. Especially after I was publicly outed on the News.”

This time, Jisung did stop. “You what?” He felt Minho attempt a shrug and nodded against his back.

“Mhm. ‘Local Boy Hospitalizes Classmate Over Homophobic Remarks.’ Conveniently enough, they left out the part about him harassing and assaulting me for months to fuel their agenda of gay people being violent delinquents. Hyunjin was the only one who believed me, but he kind of had to. Gays stick together after all.” Minho laughed as he said it, the vibrations cascading off of his body and buzzing against Jisung’s. The latter didn’t find it as funny.

“Did he press charges?” 

Minho hummed. “Tried to. But my mom said she’d bring out everything that the News article left out if they went through with it.” 

Jisung released a breath of relief, but his stomach was still twisted in knots. “Jeez, Min. I’m so sorry.” He knew it wouldn’t do anything and Sober Minho would’ve thrown him into the road for it, but he didn’t know what else to say.

Drunk Minho did what Drunk Minho did best, he cracked a joke. “For what? You aren’t the homophobe, are you?” He mockingly gasped, “Jaejin, my goodness, you look so different.” It earned him another slap on the thigh and his laughter echoed down the vacant streets. 

“I never told anybody back home,” Jisung whispered, “that I’m gay.”

Minho gasped, digging his fist into the dip of Jisung’s back, “You’re gay!?” He exclaimed in mock surprise, “I had no idea.”

“Shut up.” 

The mood had shifted, long gone was the streak of serious and somewhat intelligent conversation, but Jisung still savored that moment. He knew Minho wouldn’t recall a single thing about what was said tonight, but he felt strangely content with that. It ensured Minho wouldn’t view him differently for what he’d told him and that Minho wouldn’t feel embarrassed about what  _ he  _ said. 

Minho rambled the entire way up to the third floor and rambled down the hall after he told Jisung his apartment number. It was a wonder Changbin didn’t wake up, but he was probably passed out cold from his ungodly level of intoxication.

“Min,” Jisung tapped his thigh and received a hum in response, “which room is yours?” 

“Second door on the left.” Minho mumbled against Jisung’s back, sounding more and more tired every time he spoke. Jisung carefully avoided stray shoes littered in the hallway and pushed open the door. 

The first thing he noticed was the decorations. Minho’s walls were a dark brown color, a small collection of guitars sat in the corner. He had two windows on either side of his bed which was pushed up against the wall, and two nightstands on either side. An LED sign hung above his bed, two hands interlocking pinkies, one red and one blue. Albums and polaroid pictures covered the walls and other cool signs were scattered in between them. His bed was a mess of sheets and clothes, a desk on the far wall old and vandalized with stickers and markers.

He sat Minho at the foot of his bed and tried to clear it off as much as he could. The boy let out a loud yawn and flopped back, staring at the ceiling which Jisung just now noticed more polaroids among glow-in-the-dark stars. They were of the band, of Minho at practice and of their performances. The one Jisung recognized was taken from the crowd of his first gig at the Sweet Bean. 

“I love that picture.” Minho said, his words sounding clearer than they had before. Maybe he was sobering up. Jisung saw he was looking at the same picture. It was focused mostly on Minho, but he was clearly visible in it as well, looking so far away as he watched his drums. Minho was smiling, his eyes shining and hair a mess, but he looked so like himself.

“Yeah, you look really good in it.” 

He heard the slightest shift and looked down to find Minho staring at him now. Not giving himself time to overanalyze the actions of a drunk man, Jisung reached for a blanket at the bottom of the bed and brought it up to Minho’s chest. 

“I’m not going to undress you, sorry.” He joked and Minho sleepily swatted his hand away. He curled around the blanket and was fast asleep in seconds. Jisung shook his head fondly. 

He trekked to the kitchen, and softly plundered through the cabinets until he found painkillers. He left two on the counter for Changbin, not wanting to interrupt his slumber. He brought the other two back to Minho’s room with a bottle of water and left them on his desk. 

Music sheets and scribbled notes alongside what seemed to be poems covered any wooden surface he could’ve seen and he brushed away at a small corner to lay the medicine down. Under the papers, various colors of sharpie marked the wood.

_ “Manic!!!!” _ One of the lines read and was followed by cute little drawings of guitars, drums, keyboards and microphones. Under that line were names.

_ Chan was here :p _

_ Changbin was here :> _

_ Seungminnie was here :) _

_ I.N was here :* _

_ This is Minho’s fucking desk, he was here :/ _

He giggled softly to himself as his fingers traced the faded lettering. They faded differently, they had been written at different times. A set of sharpies lay abandoned on the desk and Jisung cleared a different corner of the desk to set the medicine on.

He thought about it for a moment, and then selected the bright red sharpie. 

_ Sungie was here :] _

He left the apartment, locking the bottom lock of the door as he exited. The ride home wasn’t terrible, but he was insanely tired after all that had happened. He’d never been so happy to see the dorms.

That night, he fell into bed after removing his makeup and changing his clothes. His mind thought back on the events of today, the chaos and laughter and for some reason, the really deep and fleeting moment of vulnerability. 

He was drifting to sleep when his mind supplied him with a thought that would plague his very existence. 

_ Minho is cute. I really like him.  _

And just like that, all of Jisung’s hard work to ignore, to push it down and swallow it whole, was ruined. He shot up in his bed, his body screaming in protest and forcing him back down into the mattress. He should’ve seen it coming, and he did in a way, but it wasn’t any less devastating.

_ Shit _ , He thought,  _ I like Minho.  _

+++

A dreamless sleep was just what Jisung needed after everything that had revealed itself the night before. In a perfect world, he could sleep through the day with no disturbances and peacefully ignore his problems for a bit longer. In a perfect world, he would never have to acknowledge anything from the night before again.

This was not a perfect world.

He was abruptly awoken by a pillow repeatedly smacking him in the face, the other end of it being reared back and thrusted into his nose every few seconds. He held up a hand to block the blows, but they kept raining down on him.

“Han Jisung, get your ass up.” Hyunjoon hit him in between every word. He had a bit of a headache, but nothing near what his bandmates would have if the way they were drinking last night said anything. Felix was probably dead or hospitalized. 

He belatedly noticed his ringtone blaring in the background. 

“Loverboy has been texting and calling for 20 minutes and I am on the verge of ending your relationship for the sake of my own sanity.” His roommate finally gave up beating him awake, and exhaustedly fell on his bed. Jisung rolled his eyes and reached for his phone.

Minho was indeed blowing up his cellphone. He answered on the third ring of the seventh call.

“Hel—“

“What the fuck!” Followed immediately by a groan on the other end. Minho must’ve hurt his own head with his yelling.

“Good morning to you too.” Jisung sarcastically responded and reached up to rub the sleep from his eyes. One day was all he asked, one day without responsibilities. 

“How did you get into my house?” Minho wasn’t shouting anymore, but he might as well have been. Jisung glances at his roommate, who was collecting his things for a shower.

“I’m not in your house.” He was just being difficult to be difficult.

“No fucking shit, Han. Last night, how did you get in?” Minho’s voice was muffled, like he was burying his face into his pillow. His voice was deeper than usual and it seemed he’d just woken up himself.

“Your door was unlocked and it was that or leave you unconscious in the hallway.” 

There was silence on the other end and Jisung considered the possibility that Minho had fallen asleep. He wouldn’t be surprised. Just as he was about to hang up, Minho’s voice came through the phone in the form of a groan. 

“When did you leave?”

Jisung checked his clock. He’d only gotten home a few hours ago and he’d dropped Minho off at around four in the morning. 

“Uh, early this morning. Why?”

More silence. He was growing concerned for whatever was ticking in that head of Minho’s.

“You were in my house?” 

“Yep.”

“And you didn’t leave ‘til morning?”

Jisung frowned. “Yeah?”

“You wrote your name on my desk.”

“That I did.”

“You were in my room?”

“Yes, Minho. Where are you go— Oh.” It dawned on him all at once and he had to keep himself from audibly choking on his own tongue. “ _ Oh.  _ Oh my god, what the hell are you—No! No! I—“

“Well, how was I supposed to know!?” Minho cut in, exasperated and yet relieved. Jisung squeezed his eyes shut and ran a hand down his face. 

“I don’t know, maybe trust the fact that you were intoxicated and I am not a complete scumbag?” Jisung pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping that he was still dreaming and not at all having this conversation with his bandmate whom he had just realized he had feelings for. Life was a fucking nightmare. 

“I don’t remember anything! Was I supposed to just magically know you weren’t drunk too?” Minho defensively griped, and there was shuffling that made his voice clearer and a sigh of relief from the other end of the phone. 

“Oh my god. I can't believe you would even  _ think—“ _

“I didn’t want to  _ think _ but I woke up with evidence of you being in my room and my last memory being walking out of the club with you. Imagine how I felt.” Minho laughed a little at the end and Jisung couldn’t help but quietly chuckle either. Holy shit, this was awkward.

“Even if we were both drunk, I have more faith in my sensibility to not do that.” Jisung informed and Hyunjoon shot him a questioning look as he exited their bedroom. A “we’ll talk about this later” look. Jisung was not looking forward to it.

“I don’t know. One time, Changbin and I—“

“Shut up. Shut the fuck up, stop talking.”

Minho laughed delightedly and it was  _ way  _ deeper than normal, less guarded and controlled. 

“I’m just kidding. Anyway, thanks for the painkillers and whatever the hell happened last night, I think I would be dead by now without you.” 

Jisung nodded, before realizing Minho couldn’t see him. “It’s cool. I ended up skipping my early morning class anyway because I was so tired.” He could hear Minho snort on the other end.

“So, I’m assuming practice is cancelled for today, since Seungmin will no doubt have to help Felix after he drank his weight in tequila.” Minho yawned. Jisung giggled as he lay back down in bed, the phone pressed to his ear and smiling like an idiot. 

“You say that like you or Changbin could handle hearing drums with the headaches you’ve got.” He teased and heard Minho scoff. “You're probably right about Felix, he should’ve passed out 5 shots before he did.”

“Don’t underestimate Felix. He looks tiny but that kid can drink like somebody is coming to amputate his legs with a saw.” 

They joked around for a few more minutes, bouncing from topic-to-topic with ease. Jisung didn’t feel like talking to Minho was as taxing as it usually felt with most other people. It was easy. He didn’t think about Hyunjin’s words or what he’d told Minho on the way to his apartment. 

Hyunjoon came back in after a while, his hair wet and eyebrow raised at Jisung while he talked. He didn’t say anything, but the teasing look said everything he didn’t need to. A few more minutes passed and Younghoon appeared in their doorway.

“Hey, I need you for a second. We’re making churros.” He motioned at Hyunjoon, keeping his voice barely above a whisper to not interrupt Jisung. Hyunjoon smirked and got up. He wasn’t as considerate.

“Oh yeah, I’ll be right there.” He spoke clearly and louder than normal. Minho went dead silent on the other end of the line. “Jiji, do you want anything?”

Jisung glared. “No. I’m good.” 

“You sure?” Hyunjoon purposely moved closer to the phone. He wore a devilish grin and ignored Jisung’s swatting hands. “You haven’t eaten all day. What if you get sick, Ji?” 

“I’m fine. Go make your churros.” He said through gritted teeth and Hyunjoon, seemingly satisfied, shrugged and skipped off. Jisung quickly apologized to Minho and the latter brushed it off. They continued talking a little while longer, but it was much more tense.

“Changbin needs something in the kitchen. I’d better go help him.” Minho said suddenly and Jisung heard him get up out of bed.

“Oh, yeah. That’s—“

“See you at practice, Sungie.” And the line went dead. 

+++

The fundamentals of chess were simple. 

First, control the center. Location is key, and placing your pawns in the middle to control as many of the squares as you can is an important move.

Second, you need to make a move. Knights and Bishops should be out and about as early as possible, especially for a decent checkmate. 

Third, castle as soon as possible. Winning if your king isn’t safe is almost impossible and developing your queen with your rooks immediately after is good strategy. 

Fourth, keep your pieces protected. Every piece is valuable and the more pieces on the board, the more room for there is for checkmate opportunities.

Finally, checkmate in good nature.

He kept these rules in mind as he prepared for Sunday’s dinner. Hyunjoon was once again throwing outfits all over his room and he called in a special favor to Yunho again for makeup. Jisung didn’t think it was necessary this time, but he wouldn’t argue with Hyunjoon’s vision. 

Minho had been low energy at the last few practices, but nobody acknowledged it, so Jisung decided it must’ve been normal. He hadn’t backed out of Sunday’s dinner though, so Jisung assumed that meant he was still going.

They were meeting Kevin and Jacob, two friends of Hyunjoon’s whom Jisung happened to really like. They were dating and in classic couple-style, were extremely cuddly and touchy all the time. Jisung always felt like a third wheel around them, even when Hyunjoon was right next to him. He didn’t see how this time was going to be any different.

The effect from earlier that week had worn off and Hyunjin’s words began to plague his mind again. Minho liked to play games, he reminded himself, but Jisung didn’t like to lose. He didn’t have to play a different game, he just had to be better. 

He sent Minho a text to make sure he was still coming and received a lackluster “ _ wouldn't miss it.”  _ in response. He forced himself not to overanalyze and just sent back a thumbs up. 

They caught the bus to the restaurant and Hyunjoon was buzzing in his seat the entire way. Jisung wasn’t sure why, it wasn’t like Minho had been friendly to him at all, in fact, he kind of thought maybe Minho hated his roommate. He wasn’t sure if he knew why anymore.

Kevin and Jacob were already waiting outside when they arrived and they greeted the two with big hugs and smiles. Hyunjoon told them all about their fifth mystery guest, about the guise they had to keep up during the dinner. Jisung was out of the loop, but he didn’t care, he was watching the corner of the street to see when Minho turned on.

A few seconds later, he was greeted with the sight of the bored expression his bandmate wore as he walked toward them. Hyunjoon giggled in excitement.

“You see the scary boy with blue hair, the one in all black? That’s him.” He whispered to the other two and they observed Minho and nodded. 

“Minho!” Hyunjoon displayed the brightest smile Jisung had ever seen from him. “I’m so glad you could make it! This is Kevin and Jacob.” 

Their friends politely grinned and waved and Minho gave a short pull of the lips in return. His gaze mainly focused on Jisung. The drummer smiled sheepishly and chose to let himself be observed. Minho seemed to be done fairly quickly.

“Nice to meet you,” He said in a way that did not seem nice to meet them at all, “I’m Minho.” He didn’t extend a hand or make any effort to acknowledge them outside of that, but nobody minded and the five of them headed inside. 

Kevin and Jacob sat at one side of the table, with Jisung wedged in between Hyunjoon and Minho on the other side. The three best friends jumped into a conversation about classes and activities, while the two musicians quietly watched in complete silence.

They cued Jisung in at random intervals and he answered their questions with a nervous chuckle every time. They would extend the offer to Minho, to which he’d give short replies.

After a while, Hyunjoon sent Jisung a snarky look, followed by matching expressions from Kevin and Jacob. He didn’t like where this was going. His roommate clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s been a handful with this one around.” Hyunjoon announced, with a bright smile on his face. Kevin laughed and sipped at his water. 

“Oh, I’ll bet. You two have been a mess since Hyunjoon introduced you to us last August.” Jisung chuckled and glanced at his roommate. The statement was true, but more so because they did things like blow up the microwave in the student lounge two days into the term.

“We’re just glad there’s someone there to entertain little Hyunjoonie.” Jacob giggled when Hyunjoon dipped his fingertips in water and flicked them at him. 

“So, Minho.” Kevin spun on the bassist now with a glint in his eye that looked all too similar to the one Hyunjoon wore; the glint that meant he was up to no good. “Anybody special in your life?”

Jisung risked a glance at the bassist. He stared back at Kevin, unimpressed and uninterested. The table was all awaiting his answer and Jisung noticed the flicker of conflict across his face. He reached under the table and squeezed the others forearm in encouragement. 

“No,” He answered with ice in his voice, “nobody I care to mention.” 

Kevin and Jacob shared a knowing look and they passed it onto Hyunjoon. Jisung finally pieced together what they were doing and he shot them each a glare for it. They gazed back innocently.

“How’s the band?” Jacob asked, trying to seem casual and totally well-behaved. The question was definitely aimed at Minho, but Jisung intercepted it.

“Great.” He said with a tensed smile and his eyes screaming for them to stop, “It’s going great. You guys have been to our shows, right?”

Jacob looked way too smug right now and Hyunjoon’s shoulders shook as he held in a laugh. In this moment, he hated them, he hated his friends. 

“I don’t think I have!” Kevin cheerfully clapped his hands together, “Minho, what are your shows usually like?”

Minho softened the slightest bit when asked about the band. He turned it over in his head a few times, tapping his fingers in a steady rhythm on the table. Even the drummer himself was curious.

“High energy,” He said at last, and only briefly met Kevin’s eye, “the stage is so different from our practice room, it’s hard not to give it your all.”

His face returned to its previous guard, but Jisung continued to stare at him. When Minho noticed, he didn’t say anything, just pinched his eyebrows together in a silent question. Jisung bit back a grin and turned away.

Kevin hummed like he was really thinking about Minho’s words and not just trying to find ways to be annoying. Funnily enough, Minho didn’t seem to suspect a thing, but Jisung paid that more to his brooding than anything else. 

“Hyunjoon says you have your own little fan club?” Minho tensed as the words left Kevin’s mouth, but Jisung was pretty sure he was the only one who saw it.

“Yeah,” Hyunjoon butted in, gazing over his roommate and sending Minho a huge grin, “I’ve stood by them a few times. They’re quite the crowd.”

Being so far at the back of the stage, Jisung could hardly ever see the audience. Lights tended to shine right into his eyes when he looked up and he tried to focus on his drums anyway. He’d never noticed a crowd.

“This is the first I've heard of this.” Jisung mumbled and took a sip of his drink. It made sense, perfect sense actually. Minho was an attractive guy and he was charming enough to play people as easily as his guitar. His charismatic energy on stage was difficult to miss and even more difficult to look away from. People were bound to love him.

For some reason, Jisung didn’t like that thought.

“It’s this little group of five or six people. They stand by the stage with signs and screaming his name the entire time.” Hyunjoon chirped and Kevin and Jacob both nodded thoughtfully and looked at Minho. 

He saw his bandmate gulp and was tempted to change the subject and save him. “Our supporters really are something.” Was all he said and went back to sipping on his water to avoid conversation. 

Yet again, conversation picked up around them after they’d placed their orders. It consisted mostly of Kevin and Jacob going on and on about their most recent date to the amusement park and about how much carnival food cost.

“I’ve never been to the amusement park,” Hyunjoon said and he frowned while the thought ran across his mind, “we should go sometime.” He said to Jisung.

Jisung shrugged absentmindedly, momentarily forgetting the details of where they were and who Hyunjoon was. “Amusement park sounds fun. Can’t guarantee I won’t get sick, though.” 

Hyunjoon cracked a smile so sickeningly sweet, it was borderline malicious. He belatedly remembered the situation and how that scheming gaze could never mean anything good. Jisung snuck a look to the man on the other side of him, Minho was stirring his water with his straw way too fast.

“Sounds great!” His roommate said and leaned back in his seat to throw an arm around Jisung’s chair, “It’s been so long since we’ve gone out.”

“Yeah,” Jisung mumbled, “I’ve been busy.”

Hyunjoon mockingly gasped and threw a hand over his heart. “Too busy for me? I’m wounded.”

“Shut up.” He whacked Hyunjoon’s hand. Minho was glaring at the ice in his drink intently, like he could just pick it up and throw it across the room. Jisung wanted to ask him if he was okay, but he didn’t think Minho would appreciate him doing it in front of his friends. 

“Aww, look at that guys. He doesn’t love me anymore.” Hyunjoon pouted at the other two across the table and Jisung mentally facepalmed. He really walked into a trap here.

“Eat your food.” 

“I can't believe this, is there someone else?” 

The ice stopped moving around Minho’s glass and Jisung watched out of the corner of his eye as Minho’s chair slid back and he grabbed for his coat. Kevin and Jacob watched curiously. Hyunjoon pretended not to notice.

Minho was halfway out of his seat, and prepared to mumble something about needing to leave when Hyunjoon spoke first. “Oh gosh, I forgot to tell you guys, I went on a date with Sunwoo.”

The entire table halted in their tracks. Hyunjoon pretended not to notice and took a big sip of his drink before he even bothered continuing.

“He took me to the aquarium and I was so stressed about it all day because what do you even  _ wear  _ to the aquarium. I had to get the boy across the hall to do my makeup. Remember that, Jisung?”

Jisung gulped. “Y-Yeah. You were a mess.”

_ I’m the mess now.  _

He tried to laugh it off, but even he could hear how nervous he sounded. Kevin and Jacob exchanged looks of pure confusion, but they quickly caught on to what Hyunjoon was doing. 

“How did it go?” Kevin asked, and Hyunjoon drove his point home.

“Oh my gosh,” He slammed his hands on the table for emphasis, rattling the silverware, “he’s so cute. He was so sweet and we picked out the ugliest fish in the aquarium and named it after each other.” 

Jisung was mentally committing murder, he didn’t know who’s at this point. Finally, his roommate pretended to notice Minho standing. Jisung was too nervous to look at the expression on the bassist’s face, so he simply decided to ignore.

“Minho, if you're looking for the bathroom, it’s over there.” Hyunjoon pointed to a corner in the back of the restaurant and Minho quickly thanked him and dropped his coat. He shuffled to the bathroom all too quickly, like he was going to be sick.

Once he was out of earshot, Hyunjoon sent Jisung a smirk and sipped his water. “Mission complete.” 

“What the hell are you doing? Jisung whisper-shouted, holding his roommate by the shirt sleeve. Hyunjoon didn’t seem bothered, in fact, he was amused.

“Let me fill in our guests.” Hyunjoon turned to the expectant couple in front of them, “You see, fellas, Jisung here insinuated to Minho a few weeks ago that I was his boyfriend. He thinks I didn’t know but I did. Anyway, Minho decided he didn’t like me, what a shocker that was, and so I became overly touchy backstage and invited him to dinner tonight. You two helped me sell the dating idea, and now that we've dropped the bomb, we wait for the chaos.”

The table fell into a blanket of silence and then Kevin and Jacob were laughing and Hyunjoon joined them. Jisung was still dumbfounded and he wasn’t sure what to even think at this point.

“This is all great and I’m glad this is amusing to you, but what the fuck am I going to do about him?” He jabbed a finger in the direction of the bathrooms. Hyunjoon followed his gesture but he shrugged in response.

“You never said I was your boyfriend, and you never used the word. Play ignorant.” Hyunjoon said it like it was so simple, like it wasn’t risky as hell. Then again, letting his roommate and Minho in the same room in the first place was risky as hell.

He was going to oppose, try to find a better solution to wiggle his way out of it, but he thought back to what Hyunjin said once again. Minho played games, he always had the upper hand. This was Jisung’s upper hand, and he didn’t get it often. It would be like a game. 

“Play ignorant?” He voices the question more to himself than anybody at the table. It was true, Minho had come to the conclusion on his own, and Jisung had even told the band at the beginning that Hyunjoon was his  _ roommate.  _

“Yeah. You’re really good at it.” Hyunjoon replied and Jisung shot him a look. 

“Okay then, tell me what I do.” Jisung turned in his seat and faced his vexatious roommate. Hyunjoon smiled and put his glass down on the table.

“Play his game, but be the better player.” Hyunjoon kept an eye on the bathroom and he watched as the door swung open and Minho slowly emerged, running a hand through his hair.

“Checkmate him?” 

“Now you’re getting it.”

He launched immediately into a discussion about baseball with the couple and they gladly complied. Jisung still didn’t want to look at Minho, so he focused on Kevin while he talked. It didn’t do much good in the end, because Minho leaned down as he brushed past. His breath fanned over Jisung’s ear.

“ _ We  _ are talking later.” His voice was scarily deep and Jisung repressed a shiver. He had no other choice but to turn and look at the older as he settled into his chair, not even bothering to look anywhere but Jisung’s face. He looked pissed.

Play ignorant. 

“What do we have to talk about?” He asked innocently and Minho's eyes darkened even more. He ran his tongue over his teeth and tapped an impatient beat on the table.

“Oh, we have quite a lot to talk about.”

+++

The dinner stretched on and with his deeds done, Hyunjoon found other sources of entertainment to satisfy him, like the couple at the table next to them who were obviously going through some of their own problems. Kevin and Jacob played along to keep the topic of discussion from shifting to them. 

With his roommate temporarily caught up in a dramatic retelling of what he thought the couple was going through, Jisung didn’t really have a smooth exit. Minho didn’t try to hide his stare at all now, and he never once let it leave Jisung’s face. His eyes bore into Jisung’s very being and any silent plea for help was swiftly answered with a shrug from his friends.

He was dreading it when dinner wrapped up, because he still hadn’t found a good excuse for any of it, and he  _ knew  _ Minho would have dozens of questions his lies couldn't worm his way out of. Kevin got the check and Jacob went to the bathroom, leaving the three of them at the table alone. Jisung snuck a glance at Hyunjoon, who could’ve been the Cheshire Cat with the grin he wore. 

“Wow, Jacob’s sure been in there a long time.” His roommate remarked and gathered his coat and wallet in his arms.

“It’s been two minutes—“

“I’d better go check on him.” Hyunjoon wasn’t stupid enough to wink, but the look in his eyes as he glanced between them was enough for Jisung to know. He slipped away before Jisung could say anything and he headed for the back door instead of the bathrooms.

Jisung heard the clearing of the remaining boy’s throat, and the expectant rap of his foot against the restaurant tile.  _ Play ignorant _ , he reminded himself. Everything would be fine if he just played dumb.

He turned around casually, a forced smile on his face that he tried his best to make appear relaxed. Minho wasn’t glaring, he wasn’t emoting at all and that was more terrifying that his glare would ever be. 

“You—“ Minho started, but silenced himself when a shrill ringing interrupted him before he even got started. He ripped his phone from his pocket, and sent Jisung a warning look to not go anywhere. Jisung wasn’t moving, he didn’t have anywhere he could go anyway.

“Bad timing, Hyunjin.” Minho’s voice was shockingly calm when he spoke to his friend and Jisung wasn’t feeling as afraid as he had been a second ago, but he knew that calmness wouldn’t last very long into their conversation. Minho was going to shred him alive, and he deserved it.

“What? Can’t it wait like five minutes?” Minho was glancing between Jisung and the door, weighing his options and the best course of action, “Okay. Okay! Yeah, I’m leaving right now. See you then. Bye.” 

He sighed and dropped the phone back into his front pocket. Jisung still kept that stupid smile on his face and the sight of that smile must’ve pulled Minho back into reality. He looked Jisung dead in the face with no expression.

“This—“ He gestured in between them, “—is not over. We will be talking tomorrow before practice.” He didn’t leave room for argument, just slapped a twenty on the table and yanked his coat from his chair. He was gone in seconds.

Jisung exited the restaurant with Kevin and Jacob when they came back and Jisung knew Hyunjoon was hiding somewhere and waiting for Jisung’s call. He sat on a bench in front of the place and dialed his roommate’s number. Hyunjoon picked up within seconds.

“Tell me everything.” Impatience was one of his shining character traits.

“Nothing happened, he was about to rip my limbs off but he got a call from Hyunjin.” Jisung ran a hand down his face, exasperated by the entire situation. He debated texting Chan and trying to weasel out of practice tomorrow, but Minho would know what was up and it wouldn’t look good to avoid him. 

“Hyunjin? Who is that?” Hyunjoon was still on the line, sounding like he was crawling out from somewhere by the strain in his voice and the shuffling. He’d probably ducked into a plant.

“A friend of his, I met him the other night.” 

“Competition?”

Jisung almost laughed. How Hyunjoon could still consider Jisung to be in the running, or in the running at all, was unknown. Hyunjin had made it clear; Minho didn’t take anything seriously and Jisung was no exception. 

“No,” Was the short answer, and the one he settled on, “but he needed him so Minho left. He says we’re talking about it tomorrow.” 

There was a squeal on the other end of the phone.

“Perfect. This is going to be  _ so  _ good.” 

“I’m at the front of the building, can you just hurry up?”

“Right. Sorry.” 

Hyunjoon came around front with a skip in his step and he kept that skip all the way to the bus. Jisung could feel him buzzing beside him as they boarded, though he didn’t feel that same buzz. As much fun as this would be for Hyunjoon, Jisung was pretty sure he was going to cease to exist by tomorrow.

“I do not know what to fucking do.” Jisung flopped face-down on his bed when they arrived back at the dorms. Hyunjoon shut the door after them, bouncing to his own bed and letting the mattress springs squeak.

“I told you, play dumb.” Hyunjoon said it so simply. Jisung knew it wasn’t that simple.

“Dude, he’s pissed at me. I lied to him, I betrayed his trust.” Jisung groaned and buried his face in his pillow again. Hyunjoon stopped bouncing and the room fell silent.

“Jisung,” Hyunjoon said and Jisung didn’t have to raise his head to know there were narrowed eyes on him, “why do you think Minho is angry right now?”

“Because I lied?” It wasn’t a question, but it came out as one. Hyunjoon buried his face in his hands. 

“It’s not that you lied, you stupid bitch, it’s what you lied  _ about.” _

Now Jisung was confused. He lifted his head and turned over in his back, staring at the empty ceiling above. It reminded him of how Minho’s ceiling was littered with pictures of the band, and how blank his looked compared to it.

“He’s mad… that I lied about you being my boyfriend?” It didn’t sound like a good reason to be mad, and it didn’t make much sense. Minho being mad that Jisung lied made sense, but what did the boyfriend thing have to do with any of it?

“Yes! Because this whole time you made him think you were unavailable when you were not!” 

That didn’t make any sense. His availability had nothing to do with the fact that he and Minho were friends and he told a lie to his friend. It wouldn’t have seemed like such a big deal, Jisung used to lie to his friends all the time, but it felt bigger with Minho. Probably because he liked him. He liked Minho. He was still coming to terms with that.

“That doesn’t add up. He was jealous of you because, as my boyfriend, I spent more time with you and we were closer. Minho’s competitive, he saw it as a challenge to see who could be my best friend. You being my boyfriend just put him at a disadvantage.” 

Hyunjoon grabbed a pillow from his own bed and smashed it into his face repeatedly. He threw the pillow at the window, not even caring when it hit the glass and fell on the nightstand, knocking down many pictures and products they’d laid there. In a split second, he was sitting on Jisung’s chest, and shaking his shoulders as the shorter stared in shock. 

“It’s because  _ he  _ wants to be your boyfriend, you literal moron!” He shook Jisung with every word and finally crawled off of him to pace the room. Jisung was not sure he knew what was happening anymore. 

“You two are so fucking hopeless, neither of you even know you like each other. What a mess, a literal mess. I would put money on him not even knowing he likes you like that because you’re both the exact same and I’m going gray because of it.” 

Jisung sat up in bed, opening his mouth to respond, but Hyunjoon put a finger on his lips and the pain in his eyes made Jisung shut up. He paced the room some more, rubbing his hands together to calm himself.

“Tomorrow, when you two have your little pissing contest, do me a favor?” Hyunjoon stopped in front of Jisung and grabbed his face with both hands, “Put on that cocky drummer persona and ask him why you having a boyfriend would be a big deal. Just ask. I’m begging.”

Jisung didn’t know what else to do, so he nodded and Hyunjoon called Eric to come play video games with them for the rest of the night.

+++

Jisung could not stop bouncing his legs the entire ride to the studio. He was a ball of nervous energy, but he took what Hyunjoon said to heart. Play ignorant and play cocky. He could do both of those things, like many of the personas he’d played in the past. Think of it like a character and he could do it.

He got to the studio a little later than usual because his bus ran late, but he’d made it in an acceptable time frame. He was climbing the steps to the front doors when he heard that familiar voice shout his name.

He stopped. Breathe in and breathe out. Play ignorant and play cocky. Checkmate him.

He looked over his shoulder at Minho, dressed in black sweats and wearing a scowl. His arms were folded over his chest and Jisung descended the stairs to meet him at the bottom. They stood in complete silence for a few beats.

“So—“

“Why did you tell me you had a boyfriend?” Straight for the kill. 

Jisung had a moment to process the question. Hyunjoon’s words flashed in his mind and he reminded himself once more of the promise he’d made. The drummer, the narcissistic and cocky drummer. He had to play that role alongside his ignorance. He could do it.

“I didn’t.” He stated and tucked his hands into his pockets, “In fact, I believe I have only ever referred to him as “my roommate” and “Hyunjoon” since, you know, that's his name and all.” 

“Don’t play stupid,” Minho spit and Jisung sarcastically wondered how he’d sniffed out his master plan, “you never corrected me.”

Jisung forced himself to keep his nonchalance. He shrugged.

“Didn’t know it was my job. I let you think what you want.” 

Minho was seething and he made several small steps forward, like he was going to knock Jisung on his ass, but he always took the same amount of steps back. He was at a loss for words, and Jisung had never seen him look so frustrated.

“You are seriously unbelievable.” He gave up his fight and no longer sounded near as mad. A hand ran through his hair. 

”Maybe.” Jisung said with a short laugh, “But wait, Minho? Why would me having a boyfriend be a big deal?” He kept his promise to Hyunjoon and now he waited for whatever his roommate had wanted.

Minho froze. He stared at a spot of the ground, like he was stuck in time and couldn’t move.

“It wouldn’t.” He mumbled and finally regained his composure enough to kick a rock under his shoe. Jisung could’ve stopped there, should’ve stopped there, but now he wanted to know as much as Hyunjoon did.

“No?” He kept his cocky persona and it was becoming easier by the second to smirk and gently poke fun at the other boy, “Then why are you upset?”

“I am  _ not  _ upset.” Minho shot back just as quick and his head shot up with it. His face and voice were devoid of emotion, but Jisung had learned to read in between those lines by now.

“You seem upset.” He countered in a sing-song voice. It wasn’t even an act anymore, he liked having the upper hand and he was going to hold on to it as long as he could.

“You’re seeing things.”

“Mhm. I am seeing things.” He pretended to think as he looked off in the distance, then focused his attention on the blushing boy in front of him, “I’m seeing you upset at the idea of me having a boyfriend. Why is that, again?”

Minho’s eyes dropped into a glare and he stepped toward Jisung solidly this time. The younger didn’t flinch or move back, and met his gaze head on. 

“You—“ Minho jabbed a finger at him, “—think you’re so  _ damn _ clever.”

Jisung smiled up at him. “Oh, I know I am. Still waiting on that answer.” 

Minho huffed and took the step back, his hands returning to his pockets and his cheeks starting to return to normal color. “You aren’t getting shit from me.” He responded and Jisung could almost laugh at how predictable of an answer it was. 

“Figured I wouldn’t.” He said honestly and sighed with a grin, “That’s fine. You’ll answer eventually.”

Minho scoffed. “Over mine and several other people’s dead bodies.”

Jisung tsked at him, waving a finger in the air mockingly, “Murder is a very serious threat, Min.”

Minho narrowed his eyes again and gave Jisung an obvious once-over. “It is seeming very appealing right now.”

“This should be fun,” Jisung mumbled to himself, but Minho heard it judging by his expression. “Oh! Do you hear that? Chan is calling. Wouldn’t want to disobey him, what with your fear and all.”

Jisung began to slowly climb the steps, never turning his body away from Minho. He was walking sideways, but he was making a point. Minho did the same.

“I am not—“

“Shh. We’ve got work to do.”

They made their way up the stairs, bickering and pushing each other around in the elevator. Things were back to normal for the moment and Jisung couldn’t be more grateful. Now, he had the upper hand and he was not going to let go of it.

+++

Not letting go of the upper hand turned out to be a very useful strategy for Jisung’s game. Minho was flustered for most of the practice, messing up on parts he typically nailed and spacing out way more than he ever did before. They took more breaks because of it, but Minho always assured them he was fine.

Chan looked to Jisung for answers and found them in the smirk that never left his face. He didn’t question it anymore after that, and pretended not to notice. 

There was still that part in Fool that Jisung could not nail for the life of him. They ran through the song over and over, but he always struggled to keep pace after having to abnormally bend his arm. Chan noticed his struggle and didn’t comment until they were alone.

“That part seems to be tripping you up a little.” He whispered when they sat on the couch during one of their breaks. Minho had stepped out with Changbin and Seungmin and Allen were in their own conversation. Jisung nodded.

“I can’t get it down fast enough. I don’t know what to do.” The drummer let his back hit the couch. He was frustrated more than anything because he was trying so hard to get it down. He knew it was something to do with the sticking, but he couldn’t figure out what.

“I could ask Minho to help.” Jisung almost fell off the couch at those words. Chan looked totally serious.

“What? What could  _ Minho _ help me with?” 

“Minho didn’t tell you? He used to be a drummer.” Chan looked at him curiously, and then hummed. He turned it over in his head. 

Minho and Changbin returned and Jisung was hit in the face by a flying bag of his favorite chips from the vending machine on the floor. That vending machine was a long trip down the hall and was quite unnecessary considering that they had a vending machine practically outside their door.

Minho settled down at his feet, leaning back on the couch near Jisung’s legs and continuing his discussion with Changbin. They were arguing about lizards. 

When practice ended, Chan gave Jisung a look and Jisung sighed, but didn’t fight it. Seungmin left first, already on the phone with Felix and chatting about food, while Changbin and Chan were talking with Allen. 

“Hey, Minho.” Jisung slid his drumsticks in his back pocket when the bassist turned around, tucking his guitar into the bag, “Chan said I should ask you for help on the part of Fool. The one I keep fumbling.”

Minho stared at him curiously, eyes narrowed and face emotionless. He temporarily dropped his gaze to the floor while he nodded, leaning over to zip up his bag. Jisung overheard as he told Changbin he’d be late and to just go home without him.

They waited for the studio to clear out, and Minho temporarily left the room. He came back with two waters and a bag of pretzels. They sat on the floor of the studio for a few minutes in dead silence, passing the bag back and forth. 

“You didn’t tell me you used to be a drummer.” Jisung finally gave into the silence. Minho popped another pretzel in his mouth and leaned his head back while mulling it over. 

“Wasn’t important. I didn’t think you had anything to learn from me, anyway.” The bassist shrugged and sipped at his water. 

“You said I was decent, not that I was good. Surely, you could’ve shown me something.” Jisung argued and he saw the look on Minho’s face. He’d said something stupid again, judging by that look.

“Jisung, I said you were decent to avoid feeding your gigantic ego.” He threw a pretzel and it bounced off Jisung’s nose, making Minho giggle, “You’re a good drummer, better than I was.” 

There was a hint of sincerity in his voice, a hint that made Jisung believe every word he said. He knew it wasn’t often Minho was serious, for whatever reason, he didn’t like to be. But Minho was being serious with him now.

“Still, Chan thinks I can learn from you. I think he’s right.” Jisung replied honestly. Minho gave him a soft smile, almost shy. He grabbed Jisung’s sticks from where they sat next to his leg and twirled them through his fingers. He smiled.

“Come on, let’s see what we can do.” 

They headed into the booth and Minho instructed him to play through the song like he had been. Minho watched his hands several times, studying each of his movements. A hum behind him brought his attention away from the drum set. 

“I can’t figure out how to do this rhythm, It’s just way too fast for me.” He complained and brought his hands up to his face.

Minho didn’t verbally respond, but he gently took Jisung’s wrists in his fingers, slowly guiding them away from his face. His touch was feather-light as he brought his hands back down to the drums. Jisung could feel his presence closer to his back now, breath fanning down his neck.

“Try not to just hit right-left-right-left,” His voice was soft, barely above a whisper and every word sent shivers down Jisung’s spine, “Try hitting this drum with right-right, then the high hat with left, then cymbals with right, then left-left-right-left-right.” 

He tapped the pads of his fingers on Jisung’s wrists in correspondence with his instructions and Jisung gulped as he played out the rhythm. Minho’s fingers stayed on his wrists while he followed the pattern, squeezing lightly when every beat went the way he directed. Jisung had to admit, it was a lot easier this way. 

“Thanks,” He breathed and made the mistake of turning his head. Minho was right there, his face no more than two inches from Jisung’s. His torso was pressed against Jisung’s back and his hands still wrapped around his wrists. Minho turned his head at the same time, and they were suddenly staring.

Minho’s gaze dropped first, and Jisung tried to ignore the implications of it. He didn’t look away from Minho's eyes. Something flashed behind the stars that had been plucked from the night sky and placed in his eyes. It was fleeting and barely recognizable but Jisung was able to catch it this time.

Hope.

Minho inhaled deeply and cleared his throat, turning his head back to drums and Jisung’s wrists. He didn’t acknowledge how Jisungs gaze stayed on his face, and Jisung dared to say he finally knew the answer to the many questions that had popped up.

He didn’t mind it though. Not one bit, actually.

“Let’s try it out with the actual song.” He said when he was finally able to pull his eyes away. The advice worked out very well with the song and Jisung was finally able to play through it without needing to overextend himself.

Minho seemed satisfied with that and pulled away. He retreated to the studio, where he grabbed a bright pink post-it and scribbled the rhythm on it. He stuck it to the outer part of Jisung’s drum as a reminder. 

He considered Jisung for a minute and then smiled evilly. Minho scribbled something on another post-it and stuck it to Jisung’s forehead. Satisfied, he returned the supplies to the studio. Jisung grabbed at the post-it and smiled at the message written.

_ Good job, dumbass. :) _

Jisung folded it and slipped it into his jacket pocket. Minho flopped down on the couch in the studio and Jisung didn’t hesitate to stand up and follow. Minho left him almost no room, but he made it work.

“Why do you play bass if you were a drummer? Or are you one of those musical prodigies who play the entire spectrum?” He poked at Minho’s foot, forcing him to retract it and give him more leg room. 

“No, I wasn’t a prodigy. I played drums first, actually. But the band didn’t need a drummer at the time, they needed a bassist. So, I learned bass.” Minho shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal at all.

“You wanted to be a part of this band that badly? Why not just find a band that needed a drummer?” 

His question was answered with silence from the older and Jisung thought for a moment that he wouldn’t get a response. Then, Minho sat up with a soft smile on his face. His fingers played with the frayed threads of his ripped jeans.

“Sometimes you just know that you belong somewhere.” 

His words were soft and Jisung had a feeling this would be another one of those nights they never spoke about. A running theme and a weird one at that, but it was weirdly them.

“When Jeongin had to leave the band, Chan asked me if I wanted to play the drums again. But by then, I had grown attached to playing bass, so I said no. I can't imagine playing anything else for the band now.” He laughed and then looked at Jisung with a look in between teasing and sincere, “Plus, if I had agreed to his offer, we wouldn’t have met you. Then who would I irritate?”

Jisung grinned back and they fell into a comfortable silence. Mindlessly tapping away, he played a beat on the arm of the couch, not even realizing what he was doing until Minho tapped his knuckles against the table, and the beat formed.

They made eye contact as they did it and Minho broke into a grin. At the same time, they scrambled into the booth and grabbed their instruments. Jisung repeated the beat on the drums and when Minho added his beat to the bassline, it was a solid intro.

They toyed with it a little more, smiles growing more and more with each note. Minho grabbed his binder from the stack and ripped out two blank pages, passing one to Jisung and keeping one for himself. They grinned as they copied the work onto the papers.

“Chan is going to go nuts when he hears this.” Minho held up the sheet like it was the Nobel Prize and Jisung couldn’t say he blamed him. 

“Jisung, you are definitely getting your own notebook after this.” 

Both of them broke into laughter. For the night, they tucked their work into a pocket of Minho’s binder and put it back into the stack. Minho was blowing up Changbin’s phone, claiming he had a better song than anything they’d ever written.

+++

Chan loved it.

They knew he would, but it came as a bit of shock to have him love it as much as he did. Ultimately, he decided he wanted Minho to write the lyrics, something he’d never done before in his entire career. Jisung was surprised by the request, but even more surprised by Minho’s easy agreement.

So, a few nights later after practice had ended, he found himself back in the studio with Minho. They worked through what they already had and were able to piece together what they wanted the other guitar and keyboard to sound like. Still, they haven’t written any lyrics and Jisung found himself wondering what could lead Chan to such a decision.

“I don’t know what possessed Chan to trust us with an entire song, we are just the foundation setters.” Was what he said out loud. Minho chuckled and tapped his pen against the desk.

“He said he’s working on deciphering something he wrote the night we went to the bar.” Minho snorted, “Apparently, Drunk-Chan had some amazing ideas that he wrote in a language Sober-Chan can’t read.” 

Jisung giggled and leaned back in the desk chair he was borrowing. The stress ball Allen kept on the table was bouncing off the ceiling and back into his hand over and over as a form of distraction.

“Drunk-Minho had some things to say too.” Jisung commented and he heard Minho’s melodic laugh ring in his ears. He was glad he wasn’t on the other side of that, he had no idea what he could’ve said.

“Nothing too incriminating, I hope.” He raised an eyebrow at Jisung and the younger swallowed, remembering the story he’d told. He decided not to bring it up.

“I mean, you went on a short rant about the band,” He lied easily and hoped Minho wasn’t the type who could see right through it, “but other than that, you mainly reacted to embarrassing shit I said.”

Minho hummed and returned to the notebook spread out in front of him. “I regret getting so drunk that I don’t remember that conversation. I would love to hear what secrets you spill when no one would remember what you said.”

Jisung pursed his lips, knowing that was exactly what he’d done. He didn’t reply, but Minho could read it on his face that he’d revealed something to him. 

“Still, it was so fucking strange to wake up and have evidence of you being in my room and have no memory of you even being there.” 

Jisung laughed. He recalled Minho’s frantic phone call, the panic in his voice as he tried not to give himself a headache by screaming. It’d been equal parts awkward and hilarious.

“I didn’t touch anything, I swear. I just happened to vandalize your desk, leave you medicine from your own cabinet and move some of your poems.” Jisung returned to tossing the ball, not realizing how silent Minho had become.

“You read my poems?” He wasn’t smiling anymore, but instead, he looked terrified. Jisung wasn’t sure what a look like that could mean, but he didn’t want to find out. 

“Nah,” He kept his voice as cool and casual as possible, “I didn’t think you’d appreciate that, so I just moved them to do the other two things. I figured if I was meant to know, you’d show me.” 

He heard Minho exhale and apparently his cool demeanor had worked, because Minho relaxed. He went back to scribbling in the notebook. Reading Minho’s poems would’ve been invasive, and he didn’t want the older to even  _ think _ he’d done such a thing.

“The poems are why Chan wants me to write a song.” Minho said after a few minutes of quiet, “He thinks I’d make a good songwriter.” 

Jisung nodded and caught the ball, holding it by his side for a moment. Minho was running the pen over the margins of the notebook, creating pretty designs around it. 

“Maybe you would. Try to channel some of that poetic energy into a pop song.” 

“Oh yeah, let me move my poems about how the world is burning itself alive into a fun little dance tune.” Minho mocked him and he twisted to kick at Jisung’s chair. The drummer batted his foot away.

He held up his hands in feigned surrender and tossed a pen back at the bassist half-heartedly. Minho caught it and tossed it back. The silence enveloped them once again, their brainstormed ideas running scarce.

Quietly, Jisung hummed the tune they’d created to himself, trying to piece together what words he wanted to use. He tapped the beat out with his fingers on the desk as he hummed, trying to piece anything he could together. He could hear Minho shuffling behind him and then, a faint whisper.

“I never wanted all the big things in life, I never wanted or did anything right.” Minho mumbled the lyrics under his breath as he scribbled them on the paper. Jisung kept hummed and tapping, hoping it was giving Minho the inspiration he needed.

“I didn’t want a fancy car, I didn’t want to be a superstar.” He met Jisung’s eye as he scribbled the lyrics down. Jisung thought hard about the next part of the song and for once, his brain supplied him with something useful.

“But look where I am, and look where I’ve made it. I don’t give a damn, not that that would change shit.” He continued and Minho grinned widely as he jotted it down next to his words.

They both ran to the studio, grabbing up their instruments and beginning the rhythm. The chorus came pretty easy to them, and Jisung wrote the second verse while Minho worked on the bridge.

It was well into the night when they finally finished and had something to show Chan tomorrow. Minho fell on the couch with a sigh, gesturing for Jisung to sit next to him. He complied.

“We just wrote a song.” Minho yawned with a grin and he stretched out behind Jisung’s back. Jisung grinned and moved to the edge of the couch to give him more room.

“We did. My first song with the band.” He commented and received a flick on the back of the skull for it. He shot Minho a glare whilst holding his head. 

“First song with  _ me _ ,” Minho corrected nonchalantly, “I don’t see the rest of the members here. Do you?”

Jisung rolled his eyes and flicked Minho’s hand in retaliation. The boy was staring up at him with the studio light reflecting in his big dark eyes, making the fluorescents look like galaxies. Jisung caught himself before he stared for too long and resorted to laying down next to him to avoid his staring problem.

“Jealous, much?” He finally replied to Minho and he suddenly thought maybe laying down next to him wasn’t the best idea, considering the way Minho's laughter vibrated against his back. He debated sitting back up, but he was admittedly very comfortable.

“Please, I would never be jealous of them.” Minho said and moved to press his back against the couch. Jisung didn’t understand the gesture, and was surprised when Minho reached forward and tugged him flush against him by his waist. He lay frozen for several seconds but forced himself to relax. 

As long as he didn’t overthink it, it wouldn’t be a big deal. Minho played games, and Jisung won them. This was simply the movement of their chess pieces once again, the fighting and the taking of pieces. He was still going to win, because his queen had been protected this whole time and he  _ wouldn’t  _ let her become weakened.

“So you say.” He teased and received a hard slap on the bicep. 

“I don’t get jealous over people easily.” Minho retorted, but he sounded more serious than anything else. Jisung found that to be quite funny, with everything considered. 

“But you admit you get jealous?” provoked Jisung. He knew the answer, hell, he’d lived the answer. Minho maybe didn’t get jealous  _ easily _ , but he sure as hell got jealous. And when it did, it wasn’t fun for anybody involved. Unless, you were Jisung.

“Everybody gets jealous. It's part of emoting, you dimwit.” His bandmate sassed back and Jisung but back a grin.

“You don’t seem to be too good at that.” 

“I will shove you off this couch, Han.” 

They lied there in silence for a while longer, and one look at the clock told Jisung it was three in the morning. He rolled over as best he could and was yet again way too close to Minho’s face. Only this time, Minho had his eyes closed and his cheek pressed into his wrist. 

“It’s really late.” Jisung whispered and he half-wished Minho wouldn’t open his eyes. His wish was granted.

“I’m going to sleep here tonight.” The other boy murmured back and Jisung was taken aback by how deep his voice was. He could feel Minho curling up even more and he took the opportunity to really study his profile. He spent the most time looking at the little mark on his nose.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” His voice came out as barely above a whisper this time and he felt Minho sigh, followed by a chuckle.

“I used to do it all the time. It's comfortable. Aren’t you comfortable?” 

Jisung stretched his legs out, finding that he had enough room to move. He also looked at Minho’s face as he did it, the peaceful and relaxed expression he rarely saw. More often than not, Minho was trying to keep his face devoid of emotion, but when he didn’t try to control it, he looked very serene. Jisung suddenly didn’t care about his comfort.

“Yeah, I am.” He agreed and at Minho’s hum, “Is it okay if I stay here too?” 

“That’s cool with me. You should probably let your boyfriend know, though.” Minho still didn’t open his eyes, but his lips pulled up at the corners.

“He’ll be fine,” Jisung replied, “And he's  _ not _ my boyfriend.” Jisung finally said it and even he couldn’t keep the coy smile out of his voice. Minho pushed him roughly on the shoulder as he laughed.

“I’m still mad at you for that.” He wasn’t.

“I know.” He did know.

Jisung wasn’t sure how much time passed, but he felt Minho’s breathing even out and the steady rise and fall of his bandmate’s chest told him he’d fallen asleep. And like a creep, he couldn’t keep himself from staring. All at once, things around him began to crash.

“Minho?” He tested to see if there was any sign of alertness in him. No response. Jisung sighed, but was mostly grateful that Minho wouldn’t hear him. Yet again, he spilled his guts to a man who wouldn’t recall it.

“I told you about my high school experience because I knew you wouldn’t remember it. Now, I’m about to tell you my inner thoughts because I know you can’t hear me. Kind of fucked up, right? I think I need therapy.” He joked to the silence absorbing him.

“Sometimes, I feel like time doesn’t move. Like, we sat here for hours in mostly dead quiet and that would drive me crazy any other time. But when it didn’t even feel like it’d been more than half an hour, even if we’d been here for four. That’s happening a lot more nowadays, only ever with you.”

Jisung turned it over in his head. He knew he liked Minho. There was no point in denying it now. But as much as he didn’t want to be a game to him, he was afraid that was all he’d ever be. 

“That's the crushing truth of it. I like you, Minho. And I don’t know what to even think, let alone do, about it. I think for now, doing nothing is the only thing I can do.” Jisung recalled a quote he’d seen once, posted outside his English classroom, and he whispered it to himself.

“In three words, I can sum up everything I’ve learned about life: it goes on.” 

He stared at the ceiling until he fell asleep and he was so tired, he didn’t feel the shifting next to him, or the gaze that watched his face as he drifted away. 

When he awoke the next morning, Minho was gone. 

+++

He’d scrambled out of the studio that morning, stopping by his dorm for a quick shower and change of clothes before booking it to his class. The professor wasn’t too pleased with his late arrival, but he didn’t get yelled at, so he considered it a win. Hyunjoon caught him at lunch and gave him an earful while Eric looked on sympathetically. 

He shut up pretty quickly when Jisung revealed where he’d been and with whom. 

The rest of the day went by rather slowly, since Jisung was running on no more than four hours of sleep, but he had a break in between his classes enough to return to his dorm. He stripped off his jacket and a pink piece of paper fell at his feet. 

The post-it. He smiled as he read over the words, and didn’t think twice before sticking it to his side of the nightstand. Jisung’s mind finally returned to the thoughts he’d left abandoned last night and most of the day.

Truthfully, it boiled down to what he knew and didn’t know. He knew he had feelings for Minho, he knew they were complicated and he knew he didn’t want to ruin anything between them. He didn’t know what Minho felt, he didn’t know if Minho felt anything, and he didn’t know how Minho would react.

Doing nothing was the only thing he could do for now. Maybe everybody around him thought he was stupid for it, maybe Hyunjoon would kick his ass for his decision, but he was willing to take it if it meant keeping the bassist around.

He worked on homework from his classes later in the week to pass time before his next class and he headed to the studio early after. Chan was already there, working with the song he and Minho had written last night. 

He grinned when Jisung entered, but didn’t step away from his work. Jisung didn’t expect him to and headed for the booth. He went over the rhythm in Fool a few times to make sure he had it down, and was still surprised to find how easy it was.

Seungmin entered with Changbin and Minho close behind, talking in hushed whispers that were hard to decipher. The whispering stopped when they stepped into the studio and Minho immediately ended up at Chan’s side to discuss the track.

Seungmin stepped into the booth, waving a hello to Jisung as he went straight for his keyboard. Changbin sent him a look that was close to pity, but he didn’t offer an explanation. Confused, Jisung chose to ignore it. 

A few more minutes passed and Minho and Chan stepped into the booth as well. He tried to catch Minho’s eye but the boy never did look his way. Weird, but not concerning.

What  _ was  _ concerning was how Minho was acting for the rest of the practice. He didn’t say anything to Jisung on the breaks, he didn’t goof around or crack jokes in between songs and he didn’t even look Jisung’s way one time the entire practice. 

He was worried, but didn’t want to bring it up in front of the other members, so he chose to wait until practice let out. When Chan called an end to it, Minho didn’t stick around like he usually did. Instead, he hastily put his bass up and ran out the door. 

Jisung shoved his sticks into his bag and grabbed his coat, fully prepared to take off after him. Changbin stood in front of Jisung’s drum set, a confused yet pitiful expression on his features.

“He wouldn’t tell me any details. Did you two break up or something?”

Jisung honestly did not have time for these kinds of jokes. He slung his bag over his shoulder and remarked “very funny” as he hustled out the door. He didn’t miss Changbin’s startled face, but he didn’t have time to think about it.

Minho was at the end of the hall, waiting for the elevator. Jisung began to book it down there, and he watched as Minho stepped into the open car. He walked faster and barely made it in time to stick his hand through and stop it. 

Minho looked to the side and pretended he didn’t notice when Jisung stepped in. The car started moving and silence fell over them in a thick blanket. Jisung finally mustered up the courage to ask the question that’d be plaguing him for hours.

“Are you okay?” He asked and Minho replied as quick as lightning.

“I’m fine.” It was short, and offered hardly any room for a reply. Still, Jisung took the room he was given.

“Are you sure? You don’t seem fine.” He heard Minho sigh deeply at his words. 

“I’m fine, Jisung.” 

Jisung watched him quietly for a moment. Minho still wouldn’t look at him, but he could see in the reflection that he was distressed.

“I’m not going to force you to tell me if you don’t want to. But you can if you want to, I’m not going to judge you or any—“

“I heard what you said last night.” Minho cut him off and Jisung very quickly shut his mouth.

Oh  _ shit.  _ He stared at the reflection in the distorted mirror, trying to grasp some inkling of humor or mischief in the older boy’s face, but he knew he wouldn’t find any. His only option presented to him now was the same advice Hyunjoon had given. Play dumb.

“I said a lot of things last night,” He hated how out of breath he sounded saying it, “you’re going to have to be more specific.” 

Minho took a deep breath and finally turned his head to face Jisung. His eyes bore into him, emotions well-concealed except for one, one that Jisung recognized but couldn’t name.

“You like me.” It wasn’t a question.

Jisung felt himself gulp and his flight response kicked in. Unfortunately for him, this was the longest elevator ride of his life and he had no possible escapes unless he wanted to climb up through the vent in the top. He was out of options.

“And?” He attempted to laugh it off, “Is that why you’ve been weird?” His voice was steady and casual, which was nothing compared to the whirlwind happening in his brain this very moment. He thanked the heavens above for always being good at faking.

“You…” Minho trailed off and he continued staring at Jisung with that look in his eyes. Jisung was finally able to name that look. Pity. Minho pitied him.

That shouldn't have pissed him off as much as it did. If this was a game, he and Minho were on the same level, they were  _ both  _ players and he wouldn’t have another player look at him like he’s already lost, not before the game was over. And it wasn’t over. 

“So, did Chan have anything to say about our song?” He leaned against the opposite wall and tried to calm his heart rate. Minho opened his mouth and closed it like a fish several times.

“He said he’s going to ask Allen what he thinks.” Minho said and before the conversation could steer far, he added, “Jisung, are you really okay with just being friends?” 

_ No, not really. _ He thought, but it kept it to himself. But he would learn to be okay with it. 

“I don’t see why I wouldn’t be.” Is what he said, “Me liking you changes nothing. One-sided attraction doesn’t mean anything for our friendship.” He didn’t believe it, but he’d learn to. He could get over this and he could still win the game.

“Yeah,” Minho said but his voice was small, distant, “One-sided…” It was so soft that Jisung almost didn’t catch it. However, his hearing must’ve been great, because he suddenly felt like he’d been hit with a truck. The elevator doors opened and Minho stepped out, Jisung not far behind.

One-sided. 

His mind reeled. Minho getting stuck on that phrase couldn’t have been a coincidence. He would have to talk to Hyunjoon later to psychoanalyze the conversation, but for now, he was sure he knew exactly what it meant without the analysis. 

He made the decision not to say anything about it to Minho for now.

“I’m sorry for acting like an idiot,” Minho said when they pushed the doors to the lobby apart and exited the building, “that was weird of me. We’re cool, right?”

And Jisung almost laughed.

“Yeah,” He said, “we’re cool.”

+++

Things returned to normal after that. Well, almost normal. Jisung wouldn't lie and say he  _ wasn’t  _ walking on eggshells around Minho now, but he at least convinced him to look him in the eye again. That had to count for something.

As for the whispered declaration that Jisung didn’t know if he understood in the elevator, Hyunjoon had an answer for that. 

His answer was the palm of his hand colliding with the back of Jisung’s head and an “un-fucking-believable” exclaimed. 

Hyunjoon’s answer was a half hour rant about how stupidly gay he and Minho both were.

“So, what does it mean?” Jisung finally found the room in his roommate’s pacing to ask the question he’d intended to ask the entire time. Hyunjoon stopped and stared at him, looking two seconds from hitting him again. Instead, he sighed.

“It’s hard to know. I don’t know Minho, but you do. You have to be emotionally—” he flicked Jisung on the forehead, “—intelligent enough to figure out what he means.”

Jisung considered the advice and decided the other boy was right. 

At the end of the day, he had to face the music. He liked Minho and he had no idea what Minho thought about it, but they were part of a band and most importantly, they were friends. Jisung would do everything in his power to make sure they stayed friends, even if it meant hurting himself in the end.

A shred of hope kept him going, the shred that said their game wasn’t over. Jisung woke up with a newfound hope. He was playing the endgame, and he would win. Even if winning meant keeping his own distance for now.

He was aware of every time they stood close like they used to, ways that now seemed too close with everything. He did his best not to say or do anything that would make Minho uncomfortable, and even if he wanted desperately for things to return the way they used to be, he didn’t push it. He  _ had  _ to distance himself because if he made Minho uncomfortable, he would lose him anyway.

There was another performance at the Sweet Bean that Saturday, a bit of a break from all the serious gigs they played, and they were glad to be back somewhere familiar. He told Dahyun and Sana all about his dilemma and they were equally surprised to hear the news.

“I should shove a makeup brush up that fool’s ass.” Dahyun muttered as she spread lip gloss across Jisung’s lower lip. He tried to hold in a chuckle.

“So, now we’re here. Honestly, I’m going to wait for it to blow over before trying anything.” He said and Dahyun looked at him inquisitively. 

“What do you mean by try anything?” The look she was giving him was untrusting and borderline wary. 

“I’m going to win. Hyunjin says Minho has a tendency to play with people, I have a tendency to accept challenges.” He shrugs and feels Sana’s hands still in his hair. She’s listening too.

“You’re going to play the player?” Dahyun laughs and she grabs for her highlighter brush. The feather light touch on his cheek is welcoming. 

“Not necessarily play him, more like checkmate him. I’m going to make him like me.” He reveals his plan for the first time out loud and briefly considers how dangerous it is to tell them. They could easily tell their friends and they would tell Minho, but he trusted them for some reason.

“But you like him, haven’t you already lost?” Sana chimed in, and the comb brushed through his hair a few times before she went back to work. He avoided shaking his head.

“It doesn’t matter if I like him, I just have to get him to genuinely like  _ me _ . Then, I win.” 

The girls shared a look and then they burst into giggles and continued their work. They were done soon enough and sent him on his way with two hugs and more giggles. He didn’t question what they were up to.

Jisung was third this time, and was only slightly surprised to see Chan and Seungmin standing by the back wall. The roommates were still out of sight. Seungmin was on facetime with Felix, who couldn’t wait to see them again. Jeongin was coming tonight and Jisung was a little nervous to play in front of someone whose place he’d taken.

Changbin emerged only a few minutes before Minho, who slapped the bill into Chan’s hands without a word of protest. Chan grinned as he pocketed it. 

“How do you guys have so many tens?” He asked offhandedly and Seungmin turned to look him dead in the eyes. It was quite terrifying. 

“It’s all I withdraw at the bank.” He said in total seriousness and Jisung couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled out of him. Seungmin held the stoic face a little longer, but he broke into a grin of his own.

They lined up at the entrance to the stage, and once again, Jisung felt Minho breathing down his neck. He was close, closer than he had to be. Jisung wanted to shuffle forward, but then he would be stepping out from behind the curtain. He felt Minho lean into him a little.

“Did you change your shampoo?” Minho whispered directly into his ear and he was at war with his own body to keep his face from turning red. 

“It's a conditioner.” He mumbled back, and focused on his feet to avoid having to turn his face and look at his bandmate. Minho hummed and somehow got even  _ closer.  _

“Smells nice,” He muttered, breath running over the curves of Jisung’s skin, “you should use it more often.”

“Are you saying I smell bad normally?” Jisung scoffed and tried to play up some lighthearted, fun energy to distract from the closeness. He was doing a good job so far, judging by Minho's short and soft laugh.

“No. You just usually smell sweet.” 

Jisung was screaming inside of his head. How did Minho have the audacity to say those things to him?

“Yeah,” Jisung forced out weakly, “you smell like lavender all the time.” It wasn’t really a comeback, but he didn’t mean for it to be. He was telling the truth.

“Thanks, it’s the Febreze.”

At that, Jisung threw a look over his shoulder and Minho laughed as he backed away. He only moved a step back. Jisung was close to retaliation because no way did he actually use  _ Febreze _ , but he was silenced when the lights went down.

They took their places on stage, like they had done a million times before and Jisung spotted Jeongin and Felix in the front row, both of them dancing around already. Hyunjoon was in the back of the restaurant, standing next to Chanhee with a happy grin on his face and sending Jisung a thumbs-up. 

Jisung noticed how Minho turned around to gauge his reaction, but he didn’t give him the satisfaction of acknowledging it when he gave a thumbs-up back. Minho would probably be mad as hell, but he had a whole set to express his frustration.

Once in position, Chan threw a glance at Jisung and he happily tapped them off. 

+++

Chan looked increasingly worried throughout the show, but Jisung attributed it all to how hard Minho was going. He was showing off a lot more than he usually did, which was saying something. He was giving a lot more energy in the songs and Jisung honestly found it hilarious.

When their set had finished and they said goodbye to the crowd, Chan pulled Minho to the side to have a chat. Jisung silently laughed as he walked on with the others. Felix and Jeongin were there already.

Felix jumped up and flew to Seungmin, who caught him easily without blinking. He was going on and on about how the show “just keeps getting better every time” and Changbin left them to their own accord. Jeongin slid up beside Jisung.

“ _ You  _ were incredible.” He said with a genuine grin, “For someone at the back of the stage, you really stand out.” 

“Thank you. I really was hoping to live up to the stage you’ve set.” He was honest when talking to the kid. Even though he was older, he felt a need to acknowledge the experience Jeongin had over him.

“You definitely did.” Jeongin smiles and clapped a hand on his shoulder, “But don’t worry about living up to me. We are very different, in almost everything. Live up to your own standards, don’t try to follow in my footsteps. Or you’ll end up with a broken foot.”

Jisung giggled but he was well aware of what Jeongin meant. Jisung was the drummer now and what he did now was up to him. It had nothing to do with the boy. For being the youngest person in their little circle, he was surprisingly the wisest. 

“Thank you.” He said and Jeongin shrugged. “I would love to play with you one day, if you’re up for it.” He added after a moment.

Jeongin mulled it over for a second and then he smiled very wide and nodded. 

Minho and Chan returned, the latter heading for the makeup station to chat with Nayeon. Minho stood by Jisung. He was perfectly happy not saying anything, and just standing there beside him, but his happiness didn't last very long and the destroyer came in the form of a bubbly roommate.

Hyunjoon and Chanhee ran backstage at full speed, crashing into Jisung and almost taking him off his feet. He was less experienced than Seungmin in the art of flawlessly catching barreling balls of energy and sunshine. 

“Dude! You guys were incredible, there were people outside the shop listening!” Hyunjoon screamed into Jisung’s shoulder and it took more strength than should’ve been necessary to pull him off. He still clung tight to Jisung and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Minho tense.

“You sounded literally amazing tonight, Sung! There was this little part in one of the songs that you absolutely nailed and the crowd went insane!” He was talking about the part in Fool, the one Minho had helped him with. 

“That was actually Minho’s doing.” He admitted rather sheepishly, not because he was ashamed of having needed help, but because he didn’t know if making them aware of each other’s presence was a good idea. Hyunjoon didn’t seem to mind and looked at Minho with a bright smile. Minho didn’t react. Usually, he would’ve soaked up the praise, but he was as still as a statue right now.

“What would we do without you?” Hyunjoon remarked and Minho’s eyes narrowed. Jisung could tell his roommate wasn’t being sarcastic, but Minho seemed to take it that way. Oh boy.

“Oh, and there was a scout in the audience,” Chanhee cut in, not noticing the silent brawl between the two, “he was taking videos of you guys!”

That got everybody’s attention. Felix pulled away from Seungmin and ran to get Chan and Changbin, while the three present members all stared at him dubiously.

“A scout? For what?” Seungmin asked, folding his arms over his chest in his best attempt to appear nonchalant. It didn’t really work, but nobody was going to tell Seungmin that.

“He mentioned something to do with a competition. Battle of the Bands?” 

Minho finally broke his rock solid stance with a choke. Seungmin didn’t look any better. They’d told him about the Battle of the Bands, but had mentioned it only briefly. It was a fierce competition for a bunch of local bands in which marketing agents came to pick their favorites and whoever they chose was rewarded with one of the best marketing teams in the industry. It was super competitive and they were being  _ scouted _ for it. 

“We are in no way ready for something like that.” Seungmin said and Felix returned with Chan and Changbin only seconds later. They both looked confused.

“What’s going on?” Chan asked and Seungmin looked sick to his stomach as Felix wrapped around him again. Chan looked around the group, before his eyes settled in Minho.

“There was a scout here tonight for Battle of the Bands.” He sighed and ran a hand through his blue hair. Chan turned pale all of a sudden. Changbin was fidgeting.

“We aren’t qualified,” Seungmin said yet again, “there’s bands competing that have entered the competition annually for years. We just got a new drummer and the four of us haven’t been working together that long anyway.”

“Well, they must think differently if they’re here to scout us.” Changbin crumbled and silence fell over them. Minho was the first to make any noise by clearing his throat.

“We’ll just have to be the best then.” He shrugged. Like it wasn’t a big deal to him, like it wasn’t a big deal at all. 

“Easier said than done.” Changbin shot back and Minho met his stare head on. Jisung saw a look in his eyes, one that was completely unguarded. Determination. He decided to back Minho. Just this once. 

“Isn’t everything?” He said and saw Minho’s shocked expression from the corner of his eye. The older boy quickly snapped back to his stoic front, but gave a nod of approval at the drummer’s answer. 

From that point forward, it was decided. If they were good enough to play in the competition, they were going to win the competition.

+++

A few days passed since the Sweet Bean performance. Jisung had Tuesday completely free and took the opportunity to take a walk around the park about a mile from campus. It was a good day, and the main area of the park was nicely decorated.

A foundation was placed in the middle, displaying a large bird that had a stream of water coming from its mouth at the very top. Wooden benches were at every quarter of the foundation and four brick paths stretched in between them. There was a chess table set up for two slightly off center from one of the paths. Green hills rolled over each other and contrasted the blueness of the sky. 

Listening to the water from the foundation run reminded him of the park he’d sat in after the White Knights concert. How beautiful the water, and other things, had looked bathed in moonbeams and the subtle gleam of the stars hanging above their heads. Even in broad daylight, those things were still beautiful.

It was easy to get lost in thought in a place like this, fading away into the background of foundations and flowers. He could almost forget the things that kept him awake at night, the things that plagued his mind whether awake or far away. Here, it was like a different reality.

Of course, the serene quiet couldn't last for too long. Despite all the other benches being empty, he felt a weight settle at the other end of the one he sat on and he turned his head to see a head of blue hair. The quiet was interrupted, but Jisung didn’t mind that much. He didn’t like the quiet aspect of it that much anyway.

“I didn’t expect to see you of all people in a park.” Minho commented. His eyes were fixated on the water streaming down the foundation bird’s outstretched wing, falling off of the surface so smoothly.

“I know I’m going to regret asking, but why is that?” Jisung sighed and grinned immediately after. He was watching the flowers beyond the foundation as they swayed with the breeze and rose toward the sun.

“You play one of the loudest instruments. Didn’t think peace and quiet would be your scene.” And Jisung hated how right he was. Leave it to Minho to figure him out without saying a word.

“I don’t hate it.” He shrugged and for once, he considered leaving the conversation there. He wasn’t trying to be weird or awkward, but Minho pulled away from him the last time they were alone and he didn’t want to make him uncomfortable again. That would make Minho pull away for good.

Minho had other plans.

“Do you know how to play chess?” He asked and Jisung shot him a look. Why, he’d only ever compared his entire life to the game.

“Yes.” He answered and Minho was on his feet with a hand stretched out. Jisung stared at him, then stared at his hand before gently accepting it and letting go once he was steady. Minho led them to the off-centered chess table and took a seat on one side. The dark side. Jisung took a seat on the white side. 

He moved his pawn up, in the same way he did with every baby step he took in his life. 

“So, do you think we actually have a shot at Battle of the Bands?” Jisung asked as Minho moved his pawn. He watched the older twist his face in thought, before letting it relax.

“I think we have as good of a chance as anybody else.” He answered and then looked up from the board. Jisung took that as his cue to move another pawn. Minho moved his knight next. 

“How far are you prepared to go with the band?” He asked and held Jisung’s gaze. The question was random, but he supposed it made a reasonable amount of sense. Still, he probably should’ve asked that  _ before  _ letting Jisung into the band.

“As far as it will take me.” He moved another white pawn. Minho mirrored his move. 

Jisung grabbed for his white knight. “Do you think having me as a drummer was the best decision you could’ve made after Jeongin’s situation?”

“We’ve been over this already.”

“Vaguely.” 

Minho sighed and moved a dark bishop out. He ran his tongue over his teeth, staring down at the board for a few more seconds before he answered.

“Yes, I do. I think you belong with us in the same way Jeongin belonged with us, the same way I belong.” 

Jisung tried to hide how wide his grin was. Instead, he pretended to focus on the board and moved a white bishop as well. Minho retaliated by moving a second dark bishop. 

“Do you enjoy where we are now with the band? Even though there isn’t much fame or money in it?” He leaned back in his chair, as if he really wanted to get Jisung’s answer. 

“I’m not in it for the fame or the money. I’m in to play.” He moved another pawn, “I’m in it to play with Manic.” 

Minho seemed to like that answer. He contemplated his next decision, then moved his dark knight to E4. Vulnerable. 

The first take of the game. Jisung’s white knight swept in and took the dark knight on E4. He fixed Minho with a strong look.

“Why were you so upset about Hyunjoon?” 

Minho glared.

“You lied to me. I don’t like being lied to by people I trust.” He answered and moved his other dark knight to the same square countering Jisung’s take by taking his piece.

“Why did you want me to think he was your boyfriend when he wasn’t?” 

Jisung should’ve known that one was coming. He couldn’t exactly say why, he didn’t even really know. He found it fun for a while, but that wore off and it became more about seeing Minho’s reactions. It wasn’t fun anymore once he realized he liked Minho.

“I can’t say I know for sure. I guess I thought you were just being competitive again and wanted to see how far you would go.” He moved his other white knight. “Why did it make you so upset all the time, before you knew I lied?”

Minho swallowed and his fingertips ghosted over his pieces. “Competition. You’re right about it being competitive.”

He grabbed a dark king. 

“When did you figure out you were attracted to me?”

Jisung rolled his eyes. Of course that’s what Minho would want to know.

“You were always attractive physically. But your personality came with time. You’re a real bastard sometimes.” 

Jisung moved his white knight again and as Minho’s dark knight moved closer, he moved it again. Minho stayed silent for a minute. A dark pawn shot out and Jisung shot one of his out as well, forcing one of Minho's dark pawns to move next to it. 

Jisung played a white king.

“Why did you try to avoid me after you found out?”

Minho stayed silent for a minute and Jisung waited patiently. Their little game didn't have limits. “I needed to process it. Couldn’t do that with you being oblivious to my knowledge and screaming in my ear.” He moved a dark king.

“If Hyunjoon didn’t have a boyfriend, would you date him?” 

Jisung blinked thrice. It took him two tries to process the question. He could only stare at Minho’s serious face for another few seconds before he burst out laughing.

“He doesn’t have a boyfriend yet, he just likes to think Sunwoo is so head over heels for him that they’re already dating. He’s lucky he’s right. But no, he’s a really good friend but I’ve never looked at him like that.”

Jisung studied the board in thought for a second, but he didn’t want to waste too much time. He moved a white bishop to A6, taking Minho’s dark king. He met the older’s eye almost immediately.

“What was the name of your first boyfriend?” He heard Minho hum as soon as the words left his lips. They sat in complete silence and Jisung could feel his feet tapping against the ground in anticipation.

“I don’t do boyfriends, I do meaningless flirting. If I actually give a shit about you, I do flings.” He shrugged as he gave the answer and Jisung didn’t miss how his gaze seemed to linger on him. He was not smart enough to know what  _ that  _ meant, but he played it safe with his emotions anyway. Minho moved a dark pawn to the same square and seized Jisung’s bishop.

“Were you only nice to me because you liked me?” The question took Jisung aback while he watched Minho collect his bishop. He asked it with such a casual expression, Jisung wasn’t even sure how to react. 

“No. I didn’t even realize I like you until a few days ago.” 

The game continued, the questions and their severity wavering depending on their plays. That seemed to be the system, big plays and big pieces moving meant heavier questions with even heavier answers. Minho almost had him at one point.

“You hardly know me, how can you claim to like me?”

He knew Minho had a point, but he wasn’t going to let himself be deflected that easily. 

“Well let’s just say I like what I’ve seen so far.” 

It got down to the wire and Jisung did not look like he was winning. Good.

“What’s your life goal?” Minho asked as his dark bishop took Jisung’s white pawn. There were only a few pieces left on the board.

“I don’t make goals, they’re pointless and ensure disappointment.” He answered and moved a white pawn to C6. He batted a question around in his head.

“What are you going to do if this band doesn’t work out?” 

Minho glared, but turned the possibility over in his head. It wasn’t the first time that had been asked, Jisung could see that much. Minho didn’t seem to care for that question, but he had an answer.

“The band won’t fail. There’s no need to make backup plans, they imply failure.” 

He moved his dark pawn to E5 and Jisung had him right where he wanted him. He didn’t even realize until it was too late.

“What do you like about me?” Minho asked and Jisung saw the look in his eyes. He was boxed in and aware, so he was going on with a bang.

“Everything. But it’s the little things like how much care you have for us that stands out.” He avoided Minho's eyes for the time being, “Guess that makes me the fool.”

He didn’t even turn back to the board, this time, he looked straight at Minho. The bassist stared back with an unimpressed glare.

“Why don’t you do relationships?” He asked.

“They’re pointless.”

“Are they? Or do you just not see the point in them because you’ve never found anybody worth it.”

“What’s the difference?”

“The difference is you don’t think relationships are pointless, you think the art of being emotionally vulnerable to another person is pointless. That’s why you stick to what you know.”

Minho failed to answer. Jisung just continued grinning expectedly, though he’d already accepted the lack of response as a response itself. He didn’t need an answer when he knew it already. He moved his final piece.

“Checkmate.”

Minho stared at the board in complete silence. His eyes wandered over each of the remaining pieces, each of the ones that had been taken. Jisung chuffed a quiet laugh to himself. He never lost a game.

He held out a hand, an action that seemed almost petty, and waited. A soft and nearly invisible smirk played at the corner of Minho’s mouth. He managed to set his pride aside for once and shake the other’s hand. 

“Good game.” He muttered and rose from his seat. Minho didn’t look back as he began to slowly trek down the path and Jisung knew he was intended to follow him.

Minho didn’t even glance at him when he caught up, matching the older’s strides with a confidence he wasn’t even sure he knew the roots of. He was riding the high of his win, he told himself. 

Minho was better than him in quite a lot of aspects, but Jisung would always have the games.

+++

Friday night, Chan decided to call off practice on the basis that they needed a break from their constant performing and practicing cycle. Truthfully, Jisung agreed, despite his protests. He wanted to play, but he had to admit that his wrists were beginning to throb every time he so much as held a pencil. The others were in reluctant agreement as well, and were happily left to their own activities.

Hyunjoon came tumbling in after his last class, shouting about his upcoming date. A few minutes after his shower as his screaming continued, Yunho was back at their door with a makeup kit. They made small talk for the hour that Hyunjoon had before Sunwoo showed up in the courtyard and his roommate waved a quick goodbye before pounding down the stairs.

“I’ve never seen him like anyone so much.” Jisung remarked with a light roll of his eyes, “He didn’t even like  _ me _ that much when we first got our room assignments.” 

“It’s hard to imagine Hyunjoon not liking you.” Yunho smiled softly as he packed up his makeup kit. He reminded Jisung briefly of Dahyun and made a mental note to try and introduce them someday.

“He didn’t dislike me necessarily,” Jisung giggled as he recalled the memory of their first few days together, “but he told me about three days into rooming together that I was boring.” 

Yunho laughed too and placed each of his makeup brushes carefully in their slots. He settled on the foot of Jisung’s bed with the kit in his lap. 

“That was before he found out you were a rockstar?” 

“That’s a very generous way of describing what I do.” Jisung stood from his seated position and began to clean up the mess Hyunjoon had made in their dorm. He had a tendency to throw clothes everywhere while trying to build the perfect outfit and then he’d forget about them and leave. It was always a bitch to clean up when he got back.

“You got a boyfriend out of it though.” Yunho shrugged and Jisung remembered Yunho’s comment the day Minho came to pick him up. His boyfriend. Yunho thought he and Minho were dating. He cleared his throat awkwardly, choosing to busy himself with the clothes.

“Would you believe me if I said we aren’t dating?” He asked and was not at all surprised when Yunho made a startled noise. He didn’t dare turn around. 

“You’re kidding.” The older boy gawked and Jisung winced. 

“I’m not. I just like him.” 

He risked a glance over his shoulder and saw the tall dance major drop into thought. Yunho’s forehead was crinkled, his lips turned into a frown. Jisung didn’t know what there was to think about so hard. 

“He doesn’t like you back?” Yunho asked finally and Jisung let out a breath he was holding. He sucked it back in when his brain registered the question.

“I don’t know, but he knows I like him. He heard me say it. Lack of action is basically rejection.” He tried to shrug it off, tried to appear as indifferent as he could manage. He thought he was doing a swell job at it, but it still didn’t fool Yunho.

“Not really,” Yunho hummed and Jisung saw his eyes suddenly turn fond, “my boyfriend struggled with something before we started dating. He was afraid of love and of being loved, but he eventually conquered it. It took time and work, and it can still be difficult at times, but it’s worth it. He was silent when I confessed too, but only because he was afraid.” 

Jisung let his gaze drop to his hands, watched as his fingers peaked through the ripped fabric in a pair of jeans. He couldn’t be sure if it applied to Minho, who seemed completely fearless, but he couldn’t say the theme didn’t sound similar. If that was really Minho’s case, then it would explain a few things.

“What did you do about it? After you confessed?” The inquiry slipped out of his mouth like butter on a pan, and he mentally slapped himself for asking something so stupid.

“There’s not a lot you can do.” Yunho answered and he shuffled around on the bed to face Jisung, “You have to be there for them, if you do actually have feelings for him or care about him, but you have to be aware that simply loving him isn’t going to magically fix his issues. You seem to have a good handle on things now.” 

Jisung gulped but found it in himself to thank Yunho for the sound advice. The brunet boy nodded and grabbed his makeup kit. He excused himself from their room and Jisung tried not to watch his figure as he ducked into a room a few doors down and almost directly into the arms of an equally tall, orange-haired boy.

He continued cleaning the dorm to try and occupy his mind, but the silence was no good. Music didn’t help, since all it did was remind him of his shows in which Minho was forever present. Eventually, he ran out of clothes and moved on to straightening their beds, organizing their shelves and even setting the alarm clock to the right time after months.

In the end, his mind had nowhere to go but the obvious place. Minho.

He sighed as he sat down on the edge of his freshly made bed, careful not to crumple the sheets so that he’d have to do it all over again. Was vulnerability really the case with Minho? It made too much sense, but truthfully there was no way he could know. Minho was a complex individual.

But, he knew Yunho was right. 

Minho hadn’t actually rejected him, he’d simply chosen to do nothing. It didn’t change Jisung’s feelings and it didn’t change Minho’s, no matter what they were. If Minho was afraid, then Jisung would be there for him. If he wasn’t, Jisung would be there for him. If he didn’t reciprocate, Jisung would be there for him. He’d probably punch a wall too for the last one, but that was beside the point.

He made up his mind for the final time, and decided that it was no longer in his hands. The thought was kind of freeing and he no longer felt near as stressed as he had at the beginning of the week. Jisung left his dorm and walked from his campus to the bus stop. 

There was an arcade on the other side of town and he hadn’t gotten to visit it yet with his busy schedule. The ride there was calm and the long walk from the station to the arcade was welcomed. 

He spent more money than he probably should have at the arcade, but he didn’t care right now. He let himself get lost in the ugly patterned floors and the sounds of games being won and lost. By the time he was ready to leave, he had just enough to get a bus back home. 

He stepped out under the large awning and was greeted by the sound and smell of rain. It was pouring. The water stood at the edge of the streets, a hazard for anyone who was driving through the city. The sidewalks were beginning to be overrun with the water.

“Jisung?” He heard a familiar voice from beside him. He wondered if he was imagining things now. Hesitantly, Jisung turned on his heel and saw Minho standing before him, two large brown paper bags in his hands full of groceries. He raised an eyebrow at Jisung. 

“What are you doing here?” Jisung blurted. Really, he was the one out of place, but he wasn’t going to let Minho know that. He heard the bassist laugh.

“I live in the complex on the corner across the street. This is literally my neighborhood.” Minho held up the two large bags and jutted his chin towards the building across the street. Right. Jisung had completely forgotten. “The question is what are  _ you _ doing here?” 

Jisung dumbly pointed at the building he was just in. “Arcade.”

The corner of Minho’s eyes crinkled when he laughed. His blue hair was messily combed, pulled back to frame his forehead. He didn’t wear any makeup and Jisung was almost tripping over his own feet at his natural beauty. A loud ripple of thunder burst his thought bubble. Minho grimaced.

“I love rain but I can't stand the noise it brings with it.” He sighed and shifted the bags in his hands to adjust to their weight. He gazed out of the awning and up toward the sky. The dark clouds had only just begun.

“It doesn’t look like it’s going to get any better,” Jisung remarked and was already cringing at the way he’d be soaked down to his socks in seconds, “I should probably start heading back to the bus stop.”

Minho stared at him like he’d grown too heads. Jisung didn’t know what to do, so he just stared back. 

“The bus stop is like two miles away and it’s storming.” Minho said with a scoff and he dropped one of the bags in Jisung’s hands, “Text whoever, but you are not going to walk to the bus stop and then walk home in this weather.”

Jisung just gave Minho an incredulous look. He was not sure why he was holding one of Minho’s grocery bags. He also didn’t know what else he was supposed to do. He voiced as much. 

“You’re staying with me,” Minho reached into a bin of umbrellas and pulled out a red one as he said it, “at least until the rain stops.” 

“It’s really fine—“ Jisung started but silenced himself when Minho pressed a finger to his lips. 

“You will not be getting sick when we have a gig tomorrow.” He sat the bag down next to his feet and popped the umbrella open. It sprung to life in a blur of red.

“What about Changbin?” Jisung asked and Minho picked up the other grocery bag, plopping it in Jisung’s hands alongside the other one. Jisung was slightly confused, but things made sense when Minho looped an arm around his shoulders and dragged him under the umbrella.

“He’s not home.” Minho said and they began to cross the street. Jisung couldn’t find any other reasonable protests in the time it took to reach the other street and soon they were standing in front of Minho’s apartment building. He folded the umbrella and stuck it in the bin outside the complex. 

Jisung followed Minho to his apartment in complete silence, still trying to convince himself this was actually happening. This day did not go as planned.

The apartment was slightly different in the daylight. He could now see the turquoise color of the couch and the white walls decorated with picture frames. Large plants were on either side of the two windows, something he’d definitely missed last time. He felt something slip around his ankle and looked down to see a cat with orange and white fur. 

“Ah, Soonie, there you are.” Minho exclaimed and scooped the cat into his arms. An almost identical one followed him out of the kitchen and stared at Jisung briefly before going to attack a ball in the living room. This summoned the appearance of a third cat.

“These were not here when I came last time.” Jisung gestured to the animals. The cat Minho was holding—apparently called Soonie—purred lightly as he sat her back down. 

“Changbin accidentally locked them in his bedroom with him when he came back that night. It's a good thing I made him keep the litter box in the shared bathroom.” He grabbed the bags and headed for the kitchen, Jisung trailing behind.

“What are we making?” Jisung propped his chin in his hands as he leaned over the counter, trying to peek into the bags. Minho raised an eyebrow.

“Kimchi Carbonara.” 

Jisung pressed his palms into the counter and launched himself up. He slid onto the marble and began unloading the bags. Minho passed him his phone and told him to pick some music while they cooked. 

It mostly consisted of Minho cooking and Jisung handing him the ingredients when he asked for them, but Jisung was perfectly content with watching the process and Minho was perfectly content with showing off. 

“Do you like the soup style or the  _ ggudeokggudeokhan _ style?” Minho asked as he reached for the eggs. 

“ _ Ggudeokggudeokhan.  _ Who eats it like soup?”

Minho rolled his eyes. “Changbin.” He replied and giggled when Jisung pretended to gag. 

“Just another reason to bully him.” He sighed wistfully and was pleased at the string of chuckles leaving Minho’s mouth. He could see Minho swaying to the music playing from his phone. It was a White Knights song with heavy drums, not really something to sway to, but he didn’t say it. 

Minho danced over in an exaggerated motion that had them both laughing, and he lifted the wooden spoon from the fry pan to Jisung’s mouth. At first, he hesitated but his stomach got the better of him.

“Does it need salt?” Jisung was very aware of how close Minho was. How did this keep happening? Why did Minho feel a need to get right in his space enough to fluster the living hell out of him and then back away like nothing happened? And why did it manage to get to him every time?

Without fail, Minho moved away once Jisung shook his head, and the way the light caught his eyes made them sparkle. Jisung despised every aspect of his otherworldly beauty.

Minho separated the food into two bowls and carried them to the couch. Jisung switched off the music and sat down at the end of the couch, narrowly avoiding tripping from a cat weaving between his legs. Despite there being an entire couch, Minho sat directly next to him. 

“What do you want to watch?” Minho grabbed the remote from the table, having to lean over Jisung to do it. The latter held his breath the entire ten seconds. 

“It’s up to you, I’m not picky.” He breathed when the older moved away and thanked the high heavens he could still maintain the nonchalance he feigned. Minho twirled the remote in thought.

“Do you like bad movies?” He asked and immediately started searching through titles on the screen. 

“Depends. I don’t like accidentally bad movies, if you know what I mean.” He replied and stuffed a large portion of the pasta into his mouth. He saw the corner of Minho’s lips quirk up.

“How does  _ Killer Sofa _ sound?” Minho already had the title pulled up on the screen. Jisung took one look at the cover and skimmed the description before he agreed.

“Abominable. Let’s watch it.” 

It took only ten minutes into the film for Jisung to start commentating on everything wrong with it. He blabbed on for several minutes before realizing Minho hadn’t said anything. He stopped his rant mid-sentence, afraid that he was annoying the other.

When he risked a glance at him, he saw a fond smile on Minho’s face. He wasn’t even watching the movie, his eyes were fixed on Jisung. The younger mumbled an apology.

“Don’t apologize. I like hearing you talk.” Minho whispered, his breath flowing over Jisung’s ear and sending shivers down his spine. He was positive every hair on his body was standing on end right now, and the warmth from their pressed-together thighs had become almost unbearable.

“Oh.” Was all he managed to reply and slowly restarted his rants. 

Halfway through, he was almost positive this was the worst movie he’d ever seen. Nothing made sense and the acting was downright comedic, but that’s what he loved about bad movies. There was something about them that was almost self-aware. 

Minho laughed along to all of his jokes, whether Jisung was trying to be funny or not. He gave hums and nods of agreement any time Jisung pointed out something utterly fucking ridiculous within the plot and it encouraged Jisung to continue. He wasn’t sure if Minho even knew what was going on in the film, since his eyes hadn’t left Jisung’s face since they sat down. Jisung didn’t point that out though. 

The movie ended on quite literally the dumbest note it could have and Jisung launched into another criticism. Minho chuckled from beside him, gathering their bowls and moving toward the kitchen while Jisung talked. He sat them in the sink carefully and leaned against the door frame to listen to the rest of the rant. He stopped when he heard a yawn.

“You tiring out, old man?” He teased with a gentle smile. Minho made a face and shot him a middle finger.

“Yeah, you’re exhausting.” He rebutted and Jisung laughed. He turned toward the window, finding that it was still raining hard. Looks like he’d be going home in the rain either way.

Minho didn’t seem to notice as he gathered their napkins from the table to dispose of them. Jisung watched as he maneuvered around the kitchen, placing dishes in the sink and wiping down the counter. 

“We should probably go to bed.” Minho said with his back turned, standing up on his tip-toes to place the kimchi on the top shelf of the fridge. Jisung raised an eyebrow that Minho didn’t see. 

“You can’t sleep on the couch,” Minho continued, not even glancing back to see Jisung’s dilemma, “that’s the only place the cats will sleep. Changbin’s bed is off-limits since he’ll be back any minute now. Which leaves my bed.” 

Jisung swears he almost chokes on the air. Minho just shrugs his shoulders and turns off the lights in the kitchen. He goes to do the same in the living room where Jisung sits bewildered. When Minho sees his expression, he slows.

“Unless you aren’t comfortable sharing the bed?” 

Holy shit. Holy— Minho was implying sharing the bed. Them, he and Minho, were going to share a bed? Jisung did not think this was reality right now. He barely survived it when Minho sat close to him, what the hell was he going to do when Minho was  _ right there. _

He almost opted to sleep on the floor, but something told him not to. Maybe it was the way Minho casually leaned up against the door, a hardly visible redness to his cheeks, or maybe it was the way Jisung didn’t want to have to sleep on the literal ground, but he found himself shrugging and nodding.

Despite how casual he was being, he was freaking out internally. His chest was filled with an anxiety he didn’t even realize had formed. He sat on the edge of the bed while Minho took a shower, having to hold himself back from circling the room and poking around. 

Minutes must’ve passed, because Minho emerged from the bathroom, one of his cats following him out. He was dressed in blue sweatpants and a gray t-shirt, his hair wet and sticking to his forehead. He crossed the room to his dresser and rummaged through it.

A pair of red sweats and a black shirt hit Jisung in the face. 

“You’re not getting into my bed with your sweaty ass. Go shower and put those on, they’re a size too small for me so they should fit you.” Jisung hit Minho on the arm for the comment but didn’t deny it. The shower consisted mainly of him staring blankly at the shower wall and wondering how the hell he was going to sleep tonight.

He dried himself off with the towel left on the sinks. The pants were baggy and barely fit, but it was good enough. The shirt was loose and fell past his thighs. He was swallowed by the clothes. 

He was met with the loud laughter of the bassist when he stepped out of the bathroom. Jisung glared and jutted out his bottom lip in a pout. 

“You look like a fucking gnome in those clothes.” Minho giggled. Jisung grabbed a pillow from the bed and started to swing. Minho blocked his hits with melodic giggles and batting hands. What he didn’t anticipate was the bassist grabbing the pillow and yanking Jisung down toward him. 

The drummer froze, but Minho just laughed it off. 

At first, Jisung stuck to the right side of the bed and Minho stuck to the left, leaving the space in between them empty. The room was silent as they got settled, tossing and turning while narrowly avoiding touching each other. 

Moments passed and the minutes stretched on. As much as his thoughts tried to skate around it, he kept coming back to the same memory. The night at the studio when Minho heard what he was never meant to. It wasn’t a good idea, in fact, it was the worst thing he could bring up, but he couldn’t help the question that plagued him.

“What did you mean?” He whispered aloud. Deep down, he didn’t even expect Minho to hear it. But it seemed the older had a special gift for hearing things he shouldn’t.

“Who says anything I say has meaning?” Minho replied. Jisung felt his chest rumble with soft laughter. He didn’t take his eyes off the ceiling, because he knew he would have to look at Minho if he did.

The second question stood on the tip of his tongue. It was an even worse idea than the first, and it could potentially ruin every part of the façade he’d created. If he phrased it right, he could avoid the way it sounded.

“Let’s play a game.” Minho cut him off, staring at the ceiling alongside him. Jisung briefly wondered which picture he was stuck on. Jisung was stuck on the one of their first show. “I’ll ask a question and you answer with either truth or lie and then we’ll switch.”

“Okay.” Jisung agreed, and folded his hands on his stomach, “you go first.”

Minho was silent for only a few seconds before he asked, “You used Hyunjoon to make me jealous.”

Jisung felt like he’d been suckerpunched in the gut. He debated lying, but he knew that wasn’t how the game worked. Jisung respected the game.

“Truth.” Jisung whispered and felt Minho’s eyes on him a second later. He didn’t meet the older’s gaze on purpose, examining the picture he’s been staring at for several minutes already.

“Your turn.” 

“My confession scared you away from me.” Jisung blurted and he was tempted to slap a hand over his own mouth. Minho shifted in the bed next to him, and Jisung bit his lip. 

“Truth.” 

Jisung felt all the air escape his lungs at the answer. He knew it already, and he knew in a game like this, Minho would admit the truth. Why he was still surprised, he didn’t know.

“You’re not actually okay with this whole just friends thing.” 

“Lie.” Jisung replied in an instant. He knew Minho was startled by his quick answer, but he didn’t need time to think about it. He was Minho’s friend before he was the boy crushing on him. The question brought one of Jisung’s own past his lips.

“You would’ve stopped talking to me if I didn’t follow after you that day in the elevator.” He held his breath.

“Lie.” 

He released it. Relief washed over him. It felt better to know that. Minho didn’t wait for him to fully take it in.

“You would’ve continued ignoring your feelings if I didn’t happen to be awake.” There was the ruffling of sheets from next to him and Jisung could once again feel Minho’s gaze. He couldn’t stare at the ceiling forever.

“Truth.” He gulped. The question he wanted to ask yet again danced on his tongue and he finally decided he had to ask it. He took a deep breath, letting the air between them settle before saying it.

“This attraction—” He started, pausing to take a deep breath, “—is one-sided.” 

The quiet in the room was deafening. Jisung let his eyes fall shut, pursing his lips as he waited for the upfront rejection that would never come. Instead, Minho stared at him in complete quiet for several seconds.

“Consider the fact that if we broke up, it would destroy the band.” The bassist said and his response had Jisung turning over on his side to finally face him. He was stoic, as usual. 

“Arguing is an essential part of our friendship and it hasn’t torn the band apart yet. Anything we’d break up over could be handled.” His mind briefly drifted back to Changbin asking if he and Minho had broken up when Minho acted strange. At the time, he dismissed it as a poor attempt at a joke, but the pure confusion on the other’s face had him rethinking. 

“You don’t know that.” Minho pointed out. He yawned into the pillow.

“I do. Unless you cheated on me or something, I don’t think we’d be the type to just break up over something stupid.” 

Minho lifted his head and grabbed his pillow, playfully smacking Jisung with it. 

“I’m not that much of a douchebag.” He grumbled, fixing the pillow back under his head. “I’m an asshole, not a cheater.”

Jisung gave him a toothy grin. “Then we wouldn’t have a problem.” 

Minho rolled his eyes, shifting onto his back again. Jisung watched him bite his bottom lip, watched his eyes flick over the picture stuck to his ceiling. 

“Shouldn’t my reputation be scaring you away.” Minho raised an eyebrow and cut his eyes at Jisung, who merely shrugged. Minho hadn’t proven to be half as bad as everybody made him out to be and he was willing to bet his player antics weren’t as bad either.

“Maybe if I gave a shit about what other people say, but lucky for you, I do not.” He replied and flipped over on his back as well. Minho chuckled and ran his hands down his face.

“You’re actually unbelievable.” 

Jisung just hummed. He knew Minho hadn’t answered his question, but he could live without knowing the answer. He was content with disproving all of Minho’s concerns about them dating— wait a damn minute.

Jisung shot up in the bed, staring at Minho’s tranquil face. His eyes were closed, hair spread over his forehead in soft strands. Moonlight bounced from the tip of his nose to his cupid’s bow. Jisung almost forgot what he was doing.

Minho was concerned about them breaking up. He was concerned about them destroying the band. He had, once again, avoided rejecting Jisung when the opportunity presented itself. Instead of rejecting him, he’d  _ expressed concerns about their future. _

He liked him.

Lee Minho liked him.

He maybe didn’t know it, but he liked Jisung too.

And Jisung knew it.

“You…” He didn’t even know what to say. What was he  _ supposed _ to say? Was he supposed to say anything? Minho smiled.

“Go to sleep, Jisung.” He said through his grin and pulled the covers up to his chest. Jisung slowly reclined back down to the bed, noticing that Minho had shifted closer to the empty middle. 

Jisung couldn’t stop looking at him. 

He heard Hyunjoon’s voice in his head and his brain supplied a way to ensure his suspicions were exactly everything he thought they were. Slowly, Jisung reached out, carefully seeking out Minho’s hand and softly interlocked their fingers.

He gave him a few moments to back out, to pull away, to complain. Minho did none of the above and just sighed contentedly. Jisung could’ve sworn he felt a light squeeze. 

They were holding hands. They were sharing a bed and holding hands. And Minho liked Jisung. He probably wasn’t ready to do anything about it and Jisung was not about to push him, but it made perfect sense. Minho liked him. 

The jealousy made sense, the anger over the Hyunjoon lie made sense, the lack of rejection made sense. Minho made sense. For the first time in months, Jisung could feel himself fully relax. Because however long Minho needed, Jisung could wait that long. 

Minho turned on his side in his direction and Jisung thought he was going to comment on their current state, but he didn’t. He didn’t even open his eyes.

Minho reached forward, knotting his fist in Jisung’s—well, it was actually Minho’s—shirt and pulled him flush against him. Minho’s chest was pressed against his back and he felt his breathing pick up. 

“Don’t think too much about it.” Minho whispered in his ear and Jisung couldn’t hide the shiver that he  _ knew _ Minho could feel. The older laughed at his reaction and relaxed back into the pillows. 

Jisung waited until his breathing evened out before calming his beating heart down. He could feel his eyes getting heavy with the comforting heat around him and the long day’s emotional rollercoaster catching up with him. 

He felt himself drift into unconsciousness, hoping Minho would still be there when he woke up. 

+++

If you asked someone, Lee Minho could be described in many ways. 

The most common of these was something along the lines of “smug bastard” but it wasn’t the answer always given, just the one most given. If you asked the guy from the tattoo parlor, he would probably say he was a heartbreaker. If you asked Hyunjoon, he would say that Minho was “a disaster beyond disastrous proportions.” If you asked Chan, he would say he was “a bit of a fixer-upper.” 

All of them described Minho differently, but the underlying message was still the same. If they knew him deeper than the arrogant façade he’d mastered, they didn’t show it. Minho was a layered individual.

Unluckily for him, Jisung had time to peel back all those layers.

How he’d managed to end up in a situation like this, he would never know. If you asked him, “Minho, why is the drummer of your band in your bed when the couch works?” He couldn’t tell you. If you asked him, “Minho, why are your cheeks a permanent shade of pink nowadays?” He would probably punch you in the mouth, but he still couldn’t tell you.

He once joked to Hyunjin that he put on new layers every two weeks, that nobody would ever have the time to reach the core of him. He believed it at the time, but now it was nothing more than another petty lie. 

He wasn’t sure when things got dangerous, if maybe they’d always been dangerous, but he knew when he realized that they were. That night at the bar when they’d dragged Jisung out to drink with them, and he’d left Hyunjin alone with him for what he was sure would only be five minutes. Hyunjin couldn’t do much damage in five minutes, right?

It took way longer than five minutes and Hyunjin had plenty of time to do some damage. Minho had control over his face and his attitude, he didn’t let his thoughts be things known to those around him. His thoughts that night were dangerous and he was so desperate to keep them at bay, he drank himself near to death.

How comedical it was, to see the one who was usually so relaxed and indifferent be worried and anxious for reasons he couldn’t even explain. His thoughts did get the better of him and he tried to make his exit from the table, hoping his friends would think he was up to his usual shenanigans and leave him be. Hyunjin was not fooled and tagged along with him.

The entire way to the bathrooms and back was a lecture about Jisung. Hyunjin threatened to do horrific things to him, threats he had never been on the other end of, if he hurt Jisung. Minho rolled his eyes and played up his indifference, but Hyunjin wasn’t buying whatever he was selling.

“I’m serious,” Hyunjin clicked his tongue as they had approached the bathroom door, “the repercussions of this one are strong. Besides, I actually like the kid and would like to have a new movie partner.” 

“Great,” Minho had replied, hearing the boredom in his own voice, “can I go piss now?” 

Hyunjin looked like he was about to slap him. Oh well, it wouldn’t be the first time. He shoved Minho in the chest, and any other time, he would’ve seen it as a sign of aggression and swung, but it was Hyunjin and Minho. With Hyunjin and Minho, extreme violence was showing how much they cared. 

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’re not up to your usual bullshit. There’s a reason for that.” Hyunjin accused and flattened his back against the opposite wall. They stayed silent as the bathroom door creaked open and a bar-hopper passed by them.

“Yeah, I’m fucking drained.” He lied, but he knew it was no use. Being friends for so long, he could only get away with certain lies with Hyunjin. Any petty lies could be detected in an instant. Talking to Hyunjin was like taking a polygraph test, unless he himself was fully convinced he was telling the truth, it would show up as a lie.

“If you feel better telling yourself that, go ahead. As someone who is your friend, I’m not going to impose on whatever is going on in that chaotic mess in your head.” Hyunjin pressed the tip of his finger into Minho’s forehead, “But as someone who used to be where that kid is, be careful.”

Hyunjin left him in peace.

People would describe Minho in many different ways, and he never once in his life cared about what they had to say. He wouldn’t say he cared now, because that was simply not Minho, but he was more aware of it with a certain someone. That was dangerous. 

The best thing to do in the face of danger? Drink until you’re dead. 

He usually held quite a grip on his consciousness, he usually monitored how much he drank, knew when to switch out alcohol for water. He usually had to keep consciousness for his flirtations.

He didn’t that night.

Several shots later, he was barely walking and he didn’t remember how he’d left the club, but he knew he was facing someone’s back. One look at the back of the person's head and he instantly knew who it was. Oh fuck, this was not the person he needed to be talking to when he didn’t have control over his mouth.

Luckily, Jisung didn’t ask any questions that could potentially endanger him. He kept it mostly humorous, and was focused on getting Minho home. What an angel he was. Fuck him.

Unluckily, Minho’s mouth lacked a steady connection with his brain and the path between them turned into a one way. Every thought that surfaced his mind came directly out of his mouth before he could even think it.

He felt Jisung tense under him at one thought that had escaped his lips. It took several seconds to realize what he’d just said and when he did, he felt like he could drink at least another half a bottle right now.

“You’re not seriously trying to say I’m the complicated one.” Jisung teased back and Minho was appreciative of his light-hearted nature to the comment, God and Hyunjin only knows how he would’ve reacted.

He expected Jisung to brush it off. He wanted— _ needed— _ him to ignore it. But if there was one constant in their relationship, friendship or whatever it was, it was Jisung’s inability to follow Minho’s mental script.

Instead, under the guise that Minho was too intoxicated to hold any memories, Jisung spilled out all his heart and mind right onto the pavement beneath. It was a quiet and empty street, the night fresh and cool, but the air felt thick and heavy like being stuck in a crowd of roaming strangers.

Jisung told him things he personally would’ve never told another person, let alone  _ Minho.  _ Intoxicated or not, Minho was Minho and he had no reason to believe he was a good person. Right? 

Or maybe it was that Jisung trusted him to stay quiet. Maybe it was that Jisung was so confident that Minho in any condition would keep his secrets, and drunken Minho just happened to be the easiest to open to. Those thoughts were dangerous, probably the most dangerous he’d ever had.

It was almost funny. As soon as Jisung shared a bit about himself, as soon as he revealed something troubling him to Minho, the latter wanted to do the same. This feeling would’ve been easily kept at bay by a Sober Minho but he was not currently home.

Drunk Minho began talking, and when he started, he didn’t stop. He told Jisung about high school and the things he usually did a very good job at hiding away from the world. Not even Hyunjin knew the full story. 

And yet here he was, telling Jisung about his past like this was some kind of bonding moment. It wasn’t a bonding moment. It was a point of weakness.

He doesn’t really remember getting home, nor does he remember getting into bed or telling Jisung he could write his name on his desk in permanent sharpie. He didn’t mind the last thing though, that wasn’t a totally unpleasant surprise. 

The next thing Minho remembers is sitting on the freezing cold tile of his shared bathroom floor, his back to the wall and head pounding as he sat next to the toilet. He didn’t usually suffer bad hangovers, but that came with the price of his sensitive stomach. 

There was rustling in the next room and Changbin opened the door leading to his bedroom. Minho’s three cats came rushing out of the room and straight into Minho’s. Changbin looked down at his figure crumbled on the floor.

“Doesn’t taste as good coming up as it did going down, huh?” His joke fell mostly flat due to his voice being so slowed and tired. Minho’s retching must’ve woken him.

“You left me at the club.” Minho weakly raised his hand to point an accusing finger at his roommate. Changbin rubbed the corner of his eye, not even trying to hold back a yawn.

“Lover-boy brought you home.” He shrugged and Minho groaned so loud, he was surprised the neighbors didn’t start banging on the walls.

“Don’t call him that.” He curled into a ball as he whined, feeling his stomach swish around with his movement. He really should’ve monitored his drinks.

“Whatever.” Changbin called over his shoulder as he retreated back into his room. The sound of the door clicking shut had Minho slumping against the wall for another hour, before dragging himself back to bed.

He would deal with it in the morning.

+++

Jisung wasn’t going to lie, the first few moments after waking up in a strange bed in an even stranger room were disorienting. He was enveloped in warmth, so much that he could feel the slight traces of sweat on his legs. His brain recognized a familiar scent, one that smelled like lemon and herb. 

He spent the first minute and a half trying to decide where he was and why he was so warm. He spent the second minute and a half wondering why he recognized the place and the feeling of arms around his waist.

He spent the third mentally screaming as realization took over and his brain went fucking haywire. He had half a brain to not immediately try and scramble away, but he was also well aware that if he stayed in this position much longer, he might spontaneously combust.

Carefully, he raised the duvet, using his thumb and index finger to gently lift Minho’s hand from his middle, feeling his fingertips burn with the touch, and move it away. Jisung took extra time in making sure he didn’t wake the other when he slipped out of the bed.

Should he leave? No, that’d be a douche move. He couldn’t stay, could he? Why would he? 

Jisung stood in his confusion by the side of the bed, making sure Minho was still asleep as he had his internal crisis. It was the sound of rattling in another room that brought him out of his dilemma and—oh my god Changbin was home.

Yep, he had to leave. He couldn’t tell which room the sound was coming from, but it was still morning so he hoped it was just Changbin getting ready for the day. If he was lucky, he could slip out the front door and explain the situation to Minho at practice later. 

Slowly, he crept towards Minho’s door, and slowly opened it just enough to peer into the hallway. Changbin’s door was still closed, and the rest of the apartment was silent from what he could hear. 

_ Please be in your room, please be in your room. _

He stepped out of the room and quietly entered the hallway. At the end of the stretch of carpet, one of Minho’s cats sat facing the doors. It wasn’t the one that brushed against Jisung’s legs, it was the one that looked very similar to that one though. A little pink heart around its neck caught the light and Jisung strained his eyes to see what was written on there.

_ Doongie. _

He filed the name away for a later conversation and tip-toed down the hall. Maybe if he was just quiet enough, nobody would ever know he was here. His plan was foiled when he turned the corner into the kitchen and came face to face with Changbin.

The guitarist had a single plate in his hands, filled to the edges with pizza rolls. He stared at Jisung blankly for a few seconds, and Jisung stared back. Neither spoke for several moments and Jisung wondered if maybe he’d frozen in shock.

“Do you want some?” Changbin finally spoke, though it wasn’t the words Jisung was expecting. He gestured to the plate and Jisung slowly shook his head. Changbin just shrugged and took his plate to the living room. 

“Why are you eating pizza rolls at nine in the morning?” Jisung tried to sound as casual as possible, like he wasn’t just walking around Changbin’s house, seemingly uninvited. Changbin shoved one of the rolls in his mouth.

“Why are you in my roommate’s clothes?” He didn’t look at Jisung as he asked, but Jisung got the message. Point taken, Changbin.

At that moment, the other cat wrapped around his ankles, the one who’s silver heart collar said “Dori” and Jisung leaned down to pet it. He found a ball under the cabinets and ended up cross-legged on the kitchen floor with three cats watching his every move.

Eventually, Minho drifted out of his bedroom, not even having the audacity to explain anything. He glanced at Changbin on the couch, then at Jisung on the floor and then shrugged to himself. He didn’t say anything as he picked up a cold pizza roll and popped it into his mouth.

“Nothing like a nutritious breakfast.” Minho mumbled but apparently Changbin heard it. 

“Nothing like hooking up with your bandmate.” He shot back and Jisung froze. Minho didn’t seem bothered as he grabbed a mug from the top cabinet.

“See what happens when we mind our own business? We get to live in peace.” Changbin said.

Minho at least had the decency to roll his eyes and throw a cold pizza roll at the back of Changbin’s head. It bounced onto the floor and Dori immediately went after it. The coffee maker beeped and Minho offered the mug to Jisung, who accepted it with a smile.

The conversation from the night before still stuck to his mind like a post-it for his brain. The conclusion he’d come to last night was satisfying, at least it was for the time being. Minho liked him, but he didn’t want to do anything about it. At least not yet. Jisung could live with that.

The latter sat down next to him, squeezing into the small space in between Jisung and the cabinets. There wasn’t enough room for two grown boys to sit cross-legged side-by-side on the floor, but Minho made due by resting his leg on Jisung’s.

Doongie nudged between them, indecisively switching between their laps. Neither of them minded, they just kept tossing the ball back and forth while Soonie chased it. After several minutes of doing this in silence, Minho patted the cat on the head and slowly pulled himself up. 

“We can drive you to the shop, but you should probably go to your dorm and shower and change first.” He offered his hand and Jisung didn’t hesitate to help himself up. Their linked hands stayed pressed together for just a beat too long before Minho let go, his touch lingering.

Jisung awkwardly cleared his throat, wrapping his arms around himself and nodding in agreement. He probably looked like a mess right now, but Minho just grinned and ruffled his hair. 

  
  


They had another performance at the Sweet Bean today. Sana and Dahyun would be there to fix his hair and makeup, so he didn’t need to concern himself with those things. He waited patiently in the kitchen as Changbin and Minho took turns showering and combing their hair. 

He reached in his pockets, looking for his phone before realizing he was wearing  _ Minho’s _ pants and not his own. It made his cheeks flare red. 

He pushed open the bedroom door to Minho’s room and dug through the small pile of his clothes from yesterday for his phone. There were thirteen texts from Hyunjoon. He typed out a quick apology and promised to explain everything later.

Muffled voices could be heard from the bathroom linking the bedrooms together and Jisung knew he shouldn’t intrude. Still, he couldn’t help but overhear the conversation.

“You never let anybody wear your clothes. Not even Hyunjin.” It was Changbin’s voice. He noticed the shower was running and figured one of them must be behind the curtain. 

“He didn’t have anything to wear,” Minho replied and the volume of his voice implied that he was the one taking a shower, “was I supposed to let him sleep in jeans?”

“Why was he in your bed? The couch works.” Jisung heard Changbin’s accusing tone. Yes, the couch worked but Minho said it was the only place the cats would sleep. Surely, Changbin knew that.

“That’s for the cats at night. I didn’t want them to disturb him in his sleep.” Minho retorted, but he sounded defensive, “Besides, he didn’t seem to mind being in the same bed as me.”

“Of course he didn’t mind, Minho.” Changbin scoffed and he heard a hairdryer click on, “Sometimes I think you’re more stupid than you let on.” 

The squeaking of shower curtain hooks scraping against the metal bar echoed. Minho had ripped the curtain back and was probably staring at Changbin in the mirror. Jisung could imagine his face. 

“Just what in the hell are you implying?”

“That you’re a moron.” 

The shower quit and Jisung scrambled away from the door and into the hallway, nearly tripping over his own feet as he tried to make himself look casual beside the door. He stood there for several minutes, playing with the cats as he waited for the two boys to come back. After about ten minutes they did, fully dressed and ready to go to the venue. 

The car ride back to Jisung’s door consisted of Minho and Changbin arguing, sometimes extending the conversation to Jisung, who wanted no part in it. He was content with watching them bicker. Again.

When his dorm building came into view, he was never so happy to get out of a car. Minho followed him, not that he expected anything less. The bassist didn’t stop in the courtyard though, nor did he slow at the doors. He followed Jisung in and all the way up to steps to his room.

It was empty, still intact from when he’d cleaned it yesterday. Hyunjoon must not have come home either. He dug through the closet for an outfit and directed Minho to sit wherever he wanted while he showered.

He had never taken such a quick shower. His skin was red where he’d dragged the loofa over it, pressing down a little too hard to clean his skin quickly. He just hoped it would fade before he had to perform. The clothes he’d selected were nothing special, mostly blacks and grays that looked edgy enough. Yeji and her girls wouldn’t be there tonight, they only showed up for the bigger gigs.

He was still drying his hair with the towel when he walked back to his room. Most people on the hall left their doors open, it was one thing Jisung really liked about living on campus. He would never be one to walk into people’s rooms and strike up a conversation, but for people like his roommate, it was a personal invitation to friendship. 

However, the door to his room was rarely open due to both occupants often being in class or hanging out with their friends. Which is why his stomach jumped at the sight of his wide open door. Did Minho go back out to the car? Or…

“Hello.” He heard Hyunjoon’s voice cut through the train of thought his mind was on. He sounded surprised, but his voice didn’t have the natural friendly flare he usually kept. Instead, he sounded neutral, which was Hyunjoon’s version of suspicion.

“What the fuck are  _ you  _ doing here?” Minho’s voice drifted into the hallway and Jisung felt his eyes widen to comedic proportions. Oh no.

“I live here.” His roommate sounded exasperated and Jisung honestly couldn’t blame him. Still, he found his feet rooted to the matter red carpet in the hall.

“Yes, I am well aware.” Minho’s voice was muffled, his words stringing together like they were being spoken through clenched teeth, “But why are you here  _ now?” _

There were a few beats of silence and Jisung forced his feet to move toward the door. Hyunjoon was standing right in the doorway, like he’d just come in and stopped in his tracks. He couldn’t see Minho. 

“I need to get a book for one of my classes, I have a study group in the library— why am I explaining this to you? This is  _ my _ room.” 

“Can you just get your book?” Minho had a certain tone to his voice, like he was being irritated by Hyunjoon’s mere presence. 

“Motherfucker,” Jisung almost laughed at the way it rolled off his roommate’s tongue, as if he was saying Minho’s actual name, “you are sitting on  _ my  _ bed.” 

Jisung took that as his cue to nudge his way into the room. He walked past Hyunjoon with feigned casualty, dropping the towel into their laundry bin and hooking his phone up to charge. Both boys went radio silent at his entry.

“I would introduce you, but you’ve already met, so I don’t see a reason.” He remarked. They both watched him as he picked over his shoes, a collection of combat boots with different details and a pair of tennis shoes he’s had since sophomore year. Minho turned to glare at his roommate.

“Nice to see you again, Hyunjoon,” He spoke so innocently, his voice laced with a sweet tone. Jisung could pick up on the sarcasm underneath, 

“Will you be introducing yourself as Jisung’s roommate or his boyfriend today?” There it was.

Despite the passive aggressive nature of the question, Hyunjoon had the decency to laugh it off. 

“I’m the roommate today.” He said and then shot a look of pure evil at Jisung, “But I might change my mind by tonight.” He winked. 

When Jisung snuck a peak at Minho, his bandmate was fuming. It wasn’t often that Minho allowed himself to lose control over his emotions, much less his facial expression. The look of total anger on his face made Jisung feel just a little proud of himself.

“You’re coming to the show tonight, right?” Jisung interrupted before Minho could strangle his roommate. Hyunjoon perked up and sent a smile Jisung’s way.

“When have I ever missed a show?” 

Jisung nodded and chose to ignore the look of disdain on the bassist’s face. He still managed to catch the occasional glares he would send to Hyunjoon when Minho thought he couldn’t see him. Jisung could, in fact, see him, and found it hilarious.

“Can you bring me my phone when you come tonight? I’ve already let the guys at the shop know that I have guests that come by.” Jisung watched Hyunjoon stick his tongue out at Minho before nodding, like the mature adult he is. Jisung would’ve commented if he couldn’t physically feel Minho doing it back.

“Yeah, sure. What will you do if you need me or something?” 

“I’ll just use Minho's phone.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Minho finally tore his gaze from Hyunjoon. His analytical stare now fell on Jisung and Jisung alone. It would’ve rattled his nerves any other day, but Jisung didn’t think anything of it now. Hyunjoon, on the other hand, fixed Minho with nothing less than a spiteful expression.

“I don’t want his number in my call log.” His roommate said and Minho bit his lip  _ hard  _ to keep from losing his mind. Jisung appreciated that.

“Then just hope nothing happens tonight.” He stood up, grabbing his jacket and the book Hyunjoon had come for. Chemistry. The one subject his roommate sucked at.

Minho followed him out as he said bye to Hyunjoon and stayed silent all the way out of the building. The minute the soles of their shoes made contact with the grass outside, his mouth dropped open.

“I don’t like him.” He said matter-of-factly, like it was some big piece of news nobody knew. Like everybody didn’t already know.

“He doesn’t seem to like you much either.” Jisung countered, a cheeky smile on his face. 

“Good!” Minho proclaimed and folded his arms over his chest like a small child. Jisung huffed a laugh at the older’s immature pout. He clapped a hand on his shoulder, smiling fondly. Minho diverted his eyes.

When they got back to the car, Minho recounted the entire event to Changbin, with his own added melodramatic flare. He didn’t get the results he wanted when Changbin criticized his choice of words with the other (“Who asks the occupant of a room why they're in their own room?”).

Jisung just laughed along and gave hums of affirmation when asked. He liked watching Minho’s antics play themselves out. He liked the way Minho’s cheeks burned definitively when he mentioned the situation with their phones.

_ I’ve got you right where I want you, Lee Minho. _

_ +++ _

The performance went great, as it usually did. It was the biggest crowd they’d seen at the Sweet Bean yet, and Chan’s face showed the excitement that he felt because of it. Everyone was running on adrenaline by the time they exited stage left. 

Changbin immediately went to remove his makeup, claiming he needed a nap more than anything after that performance. Seungmin rolled his eyes and waited by the entrance for an energetic Felix to crush him into a hug. Felix did that a lot, Jisung noticed. He was always excited to see his boyfriend, even if they lived together.

Chan excused himself almost immediately and made a beeline for the little group of people off to the side of the shop. Allen was among them, inviting Chan into the conversation almost immediately after. That left just Jisung and Minho.

“Don’t you have something to break off and do?” Jisung prompted, knowing damn well Minho hardly ever did anything before leaving the venue. He relaxed against the wall, expectant. Minho leaned next to him.

“I do not. Don’t you?” He shot back and laughed when Jisung shook his head. Minho’s fingers wrapped through the chain hanging out Jisung’s belt loop and tugged.

“Looks like we’re the losers of the band.” He replied lazily and earned a harsh tug by the chain.

“I will not stand for such blasphemy.”

Jisung was about to reply, something snarky and along the lines of “so you think you’re god, now?” but he was swiftly interrupted by the arrival of a familiar face and a loud booming voice. Hyunjoon was here. Minho’s hand dropped from the chain the second Hyunjoon entered.

“Here’s your phone, thank you for not getting murked.” Hyunjoon held out the device and Jisung rolled his eyes as he pocketed it. A boy Jisung didn’t recognize slowly sauntered up next to Hyunjoon. Jisung raised an eyebrow.

“Jisung, meet Sunwoo. Sunwoo, meet my roommate Jisung. Sunwoo is my—“ His haze temporarily shifted to Minho, who was pretending to be bored, “—boyfriend. Sunwoo is my boyfriend.”

Sunwoo looked  _ very  _ surprised to hear that.

“Hyunjoon—“ Sunwoo whispered and leaned closer to the boy.

“We’ll talk about it later.” Hyunjoon’s voice was barely above a whisper, but Jisung saw his mouth move and knew. His roommate was the most chaotic and mischievous little shit he’d ever met.

Despite his uninterested façade, Minho’s eyes didn’t leave Hyunjoon’s and Sunwoo’s frames. Hyunjoon noticed this and to sell the point even further, reached over and grabbed ahold of Sunwoo’s hand. The latter startled and watched the other boy’s face for any sign of a reaction.

“It’s nice to meet you, Sunwoo,” Jisung offered his hand and Sunwoo slowly shook it with his free one, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Well,” Sunwoo laughed nervously, his hand now drifting to the back of his neck, “Hyunjoon talks a lot about you too. Oh! Forgive me for being rude.” 

Sunwoo had turned to Minho and stretched out his hand. Minho furrowed his brows and stared at it, Jisung shot him a look and the unanswered question Minho was pondering finally found its solution. He reached out and took the hand.

“Minho.”

Recognition crossed Sunwoo’s face. His eyes flitted between Minho and Jisung, before returning to Hyunjoon’s calm expression. Hyunjoon just nodded and Sunwoo seemed to understand. 

“Very nice to meet you.” Sunwoo forced out and retreated back to Hyunjoon’s side. He stared down at their clasped hands.

“We’re busy after this, so I won’t be at the dorm for a few hours,” Hyunjoon rattled, blissfully unaware of Sunwoo’s current obvious dilemma. Jisung nodded.

“Actually, we’re busy after this too.” Minho piped up. Jisung sent a dubious look his way, one that Minho didn’t even acknowledge. Ah. He was probably trying to one-up Hyunjoon. 

“Well, then that all works out.” Hyunjoon replied, that sickening innocent lift to his voice that was so damn condescending. He and Minho had more in common than they realized.

They said their goodbyes to the two and Hyunjoon skipped through the exit, his hand still wrapped in Sunwoo’s fingers. Jisung almost pitied the other boy, so lost yet dragged into Hyunjoon’s antics. He  _ did  _ seem to recognize Minho’s name though. 

“So, what plans do we have after this?” Jisung teased once they were gone and Minho pulled a face.

“Oh, shut up,” Minho grumbled, and jabbed a finger into Jisung’s chest, “I just said that so you wouldn’t look like such a loner in front of his new boyfriend.”

“So, it was all about saving  _ my  _ social life?” Jisung continued his teasing, grinning up at Minho with a devilish smirk of his own, “It couldn't have had anything to do with the fact that you’re jealous?” 

Minho scoffed and backed away. “I’m not jealous. Jealous of what? What would I be jealous of?” 

“You tell me.” 

Minho glared. Jisung smiled back innocently. He knew he was pushing Minho’s buttons, but he enjoyed the reactions he got out of doing it, so he was going to continue pushing. In their stare-off, they almost didn’t notice Chan sneaking up beside them, Seungmin and Allen both close behind with Hyunjin, Felix and Jeongin in tow.

“Boys. I had an idea.” Chan said and they broke eye contact at the same time to look their leader in the face. Chan was smiling brightly, the boys behind him all with similar expressions. “Do you have any plans tonight?”

Jisung snuck a look at Minho, holding in his laughter with all his might. Minho ignored him. 

“No, we don’t.” He answered. Chan clapped his hands together, an even bigger smile splitting over his face. 

“How do you two feel about tattoos?” He asked and Jisung’s attention instantly shifted. 

“What?” He and Minho said in unison. 

“Bandmate tattoos. Changbin says Jisung chose a cute little smiley face of his own, so I thought it’d be cool to get them tattooed.” 

“You want me to get a slanted face on my body?” Minho asked and for a second, Chan had the audacity to look sheepish. “I’m in.”

He made a triumphant sound and then turned his gaze to Jisung. The drummer mentally did a count of all the money in his savings and expenses. If he stuck to ramen for the next few days, he could make it work. 

“Why not? It's a cute little cat face for me.” He shrugged his shoulders and the group behind Chan all erupted into chatter. 

“Alright! I made us an appointment at the tattoo parlor down the street in about twenty if that's cool.” 

“You already had it planned?” Minho asks and laughs when Chan nods, “You're such a dork. What if we said no?” 

“You didn't.” Chan shot back and before Minho could ask another question, he was dragged away by the owner of the restaurant. They all shook their heads when Allen trailed behind.

“I can’t believe Seungmin is getting a tattoo!” Felix squealed and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend’s shoulders, “It took forever to convince him that ear piercings weren’t unhygienic.” 

Seungmin rolled his eyes and patted Felix's hands, but he didn’t deny it. He was getting a simple smiley face if Jisung remembered correctly.

“I’m going to make fun of Chan forever,” Jeongin said, leaning back into Hyunjin’s arm, which was slung across his shoulders, “he’s going to have a permanent tongue-out smiley on his body for the rest of his life.” 

“You’re going to have a kissy face.” Jisung retorted. Jeongin turned to him, shocked.

“Oh, I’m not getting one! These are for the band.” He said and Jisung stared at him incredulously. He may have left some time ago, but he was still part of it.

“You helped build the band. You have an emoticon too.” 

“But—“

“No buts. All in favor of Jeongin joining us in embarrassment?” He raised his hand high above his head and was delighted to see the rest of his bandmates throw their hands up in agreement. Hyunjin’s hand went up as well and Jeongin hit his shoulder.

“Fine.” He grumbled and glared when Hyunjin excitedly wrapped his arms around him. Jisung could detect the slightest hint of fondness in his grimace.

They left the shop as a group, following Chan’s lead around two or three blocks until they came up on a small shop tucked into an alleyway. A single red door stood against chipped and battered brick, a faded  _ Open _ sign hanging on the front door. Chan sent them an encouraging smile before rapping on the door three times.

It only took seconds before the red door swung open. A tall, muscular man stood in front of them in a red leather jacket pulled over a tight black t-shirt. His jawline was sharp, face angular and he was attractive in a very intimidating way. Jisung was never personally attracted to super buff men, but this man might change that.

The man’s gaze swept over each of them, most of them clad in loose black clothing and heavy eyeliner and dyed hair. They must’ve looked like high schoolers to him. When his gaze landed on Chan, something in his eyes changed and his plump lips split into the kindest smile Jisung had ever seen.

“Chris!” The stranger exclaimed with a bit of an accent. He stepped out of the doorway, wrapping Chan's much smaller frame into his embrace. Jisung got whiplash from how quickly he’d shifted expressions.

“These are the friends you’ve told me about?” The man straightened, keeping his hand propped on Chan’s shoulder. His eyes weren’t intimidating anymore, they shined with a cordial light.

“These are my bandmates, Seungmin, Changbin, Minho and Jisung,” He gestured to each of them as he introduced them, “and my friends Hyunjin, Felix, Allen and Jeongin.” 

“Quite a group you’ve got here.” The man remarked and unwrapped himself from Chan to step back toward the door. He held it open as each of them entered the shop. 

They must’ve come in through the back door, because they were led past the bathrooms and what seemed to be a lounge area for employees. They passed two rooms with leather chairs and stools to a large front counter. 

A boy sat behind the counter, a phone pressed to his ear and a pen in his hand. He wrote without ever looking down at the book in front of him, a brilliant smile on his face while he hummed affirmatives at whatever was being said on the other end of the line. 

Jisung took the moment to take in the interior of the shop. There was a row of glass doors at the front of the shop, decorated with posters and slogans Jisung didn’t understand. A black leather wrap-around couch was tucked into the corner of the room, framed tattoo designs on the other side. 

Behind the counter, large neon signs hung on the wall, lighting up the otherwise dark room. Smaller neon signs were propped up on desks and counters. The front counter was clear and showcased different jewelry. A price chart sat on top of the glass case.

“Hi,” The boy behind the counter said once he’d placed the phone back down, “what can we do for you today?” 

His smile was bright and friendly and Jisung was just slightly taken aback. He never thought  _ bright  _ or  _ friendly  _ when he pictured tattooists.  _ Nice generalization, asshole _ he told himself. The boy wore a nametag like the ones they make children wear in kindergarten. Kihyun.

“They’re getting simplistic tattoos, fifty dollars each.” The large man squeezed behind the counter, sliding gloves over his hands. When he stood next to the other boy, he made him look like a preteen.

“Our lowest prices are sixty?” 

“Use my family discount.” The man shrugged. Kihyun looked like he wanted to advise against it, but he stopped. With a shrug, he grabbed the forms and passed them out to each person.

“Remind me how you passed your business course again.” A new voice started from behind them. Jisung turned around and a buffer, shorter man stood in the doorway of one of the rooms they’d passed. Unlike the other man’s angled face, this man had softer features. 

“I was top of my class, actually.” Man Number One said. He collected their IDs and put them through the scanner. Man Number Two rolled his eyes and moved deeper into the room.

“My name’s Wonho.” Man number two—Wonho—extended his hand to Chan. The singer grinned and shook it firmly. Wonho went through all of them, shaking their hands. When he got to Jisung, he smiled warmly and delicately gripped his hand. 

“There’s a pretty large group of you, so you’ll be split up between Shownu and I. You don’t have to worry about art styles or anything since your tattoos are going to be simple.” 

Man number one—Shownu—passed the box of gloves over the counter. Wonho removed the ones on his hands and deposited them in the bin. They finished up the paper work with Kihyun and were handed back their IDs. 

“Who’s going first?” Shownu emerged from behind the counter, a wide smile on his face. Chan jumped up with excitement, following the taller boy into one of the back rooms. Jisung felt his stomach flip at the feeling of reality sinking in. He was getting a tattoo with a band he hadn’t even been a part of for a year.

Oh well, a cat face wouldn’t be so bad, right? 

Wonho came out seconds later, requesting the second in line to go. Surprisingly, it was Allen who jumped to his feet, following Wonho into the second room.

“What’s he going to get?” Jisung asked aloud. He looked to Minho, who just shrugged his shoulders. Hyunjin tapped his foot in thought.

“Maybe something for the band? He  _ is  _ your manager, after all.” 

Jisung hadn’t thought of that.

“What are  _ you  _ going to get?” He directed at Hyunjin and the boy smiled wide. He threw an arm over his boyfriend’s shoulder, pulling him flush against his side.

“A pair of drumsticks for my favorite drummer. No offense,” He added at the last minute with a chuckle. Jisung laughed, looking to Felix for his answer. 

“Well,” Felix drawed, leaning into Seungmin’s side, “Minnie hates this idea, but I’m going to get the TikTok logo! It's a music note so it serves a double purpose!” 

Seungmin buried his face in his hands as the group around them laughed. Felix smiled proudly, looking very happy with the reaction. Seungmin looked utterly distressed.

After several minutes of casual conversation, Shownu emerged with Chan in tow. Everyone perked up at his arrival and Chan presented his reddened left forearm. A small plastic bandage was near his inner elbow. The tattoo was small.

Changbin opted to go next and he happily followed Shownu back into the room after the tattooist changed gloves again. Chan was hit with a slew of questions when he sat down on the couch.

“Did it hurt?” Hyunjin asked, bottom lip sucked in between his teeth and eyes sparkling. Chan shook his head and grinned.

“It looks cute. I like it.” They all nodded in agreement. 

Allen came out next, people showing his bicep, which now was wrapped up and had “Manic” written in funky letters. They all ooh-ed and ahh-ed at it. Seungmin was up next.

Once Changbin had come back and Minho had followed Shownu back, Jisung decided he should just get it out of the way. Changbin had his on the back of his right hand, where it would show when he played. 

Seungmin returned with a smiley in his index finger on his right hand and Jisung was on his feet before anybody else stood up. Wonho smiled at him encouragingly and motioned him to the back room.

It was colder in these rooms than in the front area. The leather chair was cool against the back of his jean-clad thighs and his feet hovered above the ground. He was too short to place them on the floor. 

Wonho came in with a new pair of gloves on, and pulled a small surgical cart towards himself. Jisung watched as he picked up a bunch of things he didn’t recognize and sat down on the stool. 

“This won’t take long, but it’s best that you get comfortable.” Wonho grinned and Jisung let himself recline back in the chair. He shifted around a few times before finding a pleasant position.

“Where do you want it?” Wonho asked as he poured rubbing alcohol onto a cotton ball. Jisung hadn’t really thought about that. The others had gotten the tattoo some place on their arms or hands, but he wasn’t sure he wanted that. He had heard before that tattoos didn’t hurt too bad to get on the collarbone.

“Collarbone.” He decided and Wonho nodded. His shirt pulled down a little in the front and a damp cotton ball ran over his skin. Wonho grabbed what looked like a disposable razor from the cart and gently glided the blade over the area. He applied the alcohol again.

A soapy rag pressed to the area and Wonho picked up a ridiculously small piece of paper with the cat smiley on it. He pressed it to Jisung’s skin, letting it sit there for a few moments and then peeled it away. A blue-ish outline of the cat face rested just below his collarbone. He confirmed the placement.

He watched Wonho set up the tattoo machine, entranced by how quickly he worked through such a detailed process. Once he seemed done, a cool sensation glided over the area and he leaned forward with the needle in hand. 

“Take a slow and deep breath for me,” Wonho instructed and Jisung did just that. He felt the subtle prick into his skin as the needle glided across. It hurt, more than he thought it would. He continued to breathe slow and deep as the needle continued on his skin for about another minute. 

Wonho pulled away, grabbing a hot towel and applying it to the sensitive area. Jisung’s breathing returned to normal and he felt his stomach flip again. He’d just impulsively gotten a tattoo. There was now ink in the shape of a cat face permanently etched into his collarbone. 

More ointment was applied to the area and Wonho wrapped up his entire front in the bandaging. He listened while the tattooist ran over aftercare rules and things he should do in the next few days, as well as gave him a paper with the same instructions.

When he walked out, he noticed Minho had returned, his left foot propped up on the table in full display and shoe hanging in his hand. Felix was missing at the moment, and he remembered the boy’s request with a laugh.

“A foot tattoo, huh?” He commented as he sunk into the couch beside Minho. The bassist grinned proudly, pointing down at it. 

“This way, if I ever decide to recognize my potential and ditch you nerds, I can cover up any evidence with a shoe.” To someone who didn’t know Minho, he would’ve sounded serious. Luckily, Jisung knew him well. He rolled his eyes and smacked the bassist on the arm.

“Speaking of shoes, how long are you going to have to be barefoot?” 

“Two weeks.” 

“Minimum.” Wonho piped up, handing back the card Jisung had given Kihyun at the front desk. Minho just shrugged his shoulders, pushing his blue hair back from his forehead. 

Felix came back with the TikTok logo on his rib cage, as promised. Hyunjin and Jeongin stood up together. 

While they were gone, the rest of the group marveled over their tattoos. Chan called it a soulmate bond, Minho called it the stupidest idea they’d had in a while. Jisung called it impulsive. They were all correct. 

In the back of his mind, he briefly wondered how Hyunjoon would react, but he decided that was a problem for Tomorrow-Jisung. Today-Jisung was joking about old age and saggy tattoos with his bandmates in a dimly lit tattoo shop, and frankly, having a wonderful time. 

He knew it was stupid, to be enthralled with Minho’s looks, which he’d already established as incredible numerous times, while in a group setting. But he couldn’t help himself, watching as the piercings in his ears and nose caught the neon beams of light coming from the signs and as his blue hair looked almost purple when he turned to his left and the pink light washed over him. Jisung couldn’t help feeling butterflies when the older boy’s eyes crinkled like crescents as his laughter came out like an endearing melody Jisung would never tire of hearing.

Every word out of his mouth was a symphony Jisung was lucky to attend and consequences be damned, he was so gay for this boy. 

“Where are you hiding yours?” Oh fuck, Jisung was so deep in his head staring that he didn’t even notice Minho had started to lean in. Now, he was two inches from his face, breath hot against his ear. He glanced at the other’s, but none of them seemed to notice or care.

“My right ass cheek.” He forced himself to reply and Minho barked a laugh, letting his forehead hit Jisung’s shoulder. He leaned away, but only about another inch or so. His gaze was expectant.

Jisung pulled down the collar of his shirt, watched as Minho’s eyes drifted to the skin and the little cat's face underneath plastic wrap. He smiled.

“Cute.” He said and finally pulled away. He didn’t go far, as he had somehow shifted closer to Jisung when he leaned in. They were sitting with their sides pressed together and Jisung’s entire body felt  _ hot. _

Hyunjin came out with drumsticks on the back of his shoulder and Jeongin with the kissy face on his wrist. They gathered their cards and wished Shownu, Wonho and Kihyun goodbye, before stepping out of the backdoor the way they’d come.

Minho tried to keep pressure off his tattooed foot by leaning into Jisung and the latter didn’t even try to lie to himself and say it was just because of the tattoo. It wasn’t just because of the tattoo, Minho was avoiding letting his foot hit the ground in favor of using Jisung like a crutch, in favor of leaning as close as possible as they walked.

The way Minho’s eyes watched Jisung’s face every time they passed under a street lamp, the way his hand gripped Jisung’s shoulder harder than it needed to when Jisung snaked an arm behind his back and grabbed his side to support him, the way he blushed and attempted to hide it beneath the night sky.

Minho liked Jisung, and now he knew it.

+++

Sunday morning, Jisung awoke to the recognizably annoying ringtone of his cell phone. He rolled over, managing to ram his elbow into the corner of his night stand. He let out a loud whine, causing Hyunjoon to groan in his sleep. Blindly, his hands ran over the pile of clothes he’d dropped the night before.

“Hello?” He pressed the phone to his ear once he found it and was slapped in the face with a loud sequel. He jumped away from the phone.

“Jisung!” Chan’s voice boomed through the phone and Jisung rubbed sleep out of his eyes before humming in response, “We got accepted! The scout came to our show last night and wants us to compete in Battle of the Bands!” 

Jisung was suddenly wide awake. The information turned over in his brain once, twice and then three times. It finished processing. He was out of his bed in a minute, phone wedged between his shoulder and his ear as he shouted in glee.

Hyunjoon shot up in his bed, hair spread everywhere and sticking up in several different directions. There was a dazed and questioning look in his eyes as he watched Jisung. 

“We have to start practicing immediately,” He said into the phone and Hyunjoon blinked dumbly.

“Are you free today? Minho and Changbin are already on their way over, I haven’t called Seungmin yet.” Chan was still breathing heavily, like he’d gotten up and jumped around with Jisung. 

“Yes! Yes, I’m free. I’m on my way!” Jisung shoved his feet into his shoes as he hung up the phone, briefly remembering why it was so painful to flex his collarbone. 

“Han Jisung, is that a fucking tattoo?” Hyunjoon’s eyes were focused on the wrapping around his upper body. Jisung sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck as he ran a brush through his hair.

“Don’t tell me you guys got matching tattoos.” 

“Okay, I won’t tell you that.”

Hyunjoon groaned and felt back into his bed. Jisung huffed a laugh and unwrapped his tattoo, remembering that it was better to let it breath during the day and quickly changed clothes.

He took the bus to the studio in what proved to be the longest bus ride of his life.

+++

Weeks were spent on the setlist for Battle of the Bands. Jisung spent more time in the studio than he did anywhere else. He skipped several classes, telling his teachers he had the flu so he could submit assignments from the studio couch. 

For two weeks straight, that couch was always occupied by a sleeping body. For two weeks straight, they ate dinner together and took turns going home for showers and a change of clothes. For two weeks straight, they practiced like they never had before.

The song Minho and Jisung had written was on the list, called Everything I Want, and was relentlessly being rehearsed. They ran over it during their breaks, perfecting every little detail.

Battle of the Bands was on a Wednesday night. The first competition would be local, the results almost immediate. The second part of the competition was Thursday, where they narrowed it down once more before the Friday Finals.

After two weeks, they finally went home Tuesday night to sleep. Jisung got an absolute earful from Hyunjoon about being overworked, but he had slept a decent amount compared to his friends. 

Upon returning to the studio, they all looked much fresher and were now buzzing with excitement. He and Minho took the back seats again, playing a card game on their phones to distract from their nerves.

The drive to the place of the contest was only about an hour and a half and they managed to entertain themselves for that long. When the venue came into sight, Jisung’s eyes bulged out of his head.

There was a line of people outside, getting wristbands tied on by a set of workers. Another set stood at the doors, tablets in their hands. A group of four people walked up to the second set, some carrying guitar cases. 

“Where the fuck are we?” Jisung blurted, his face pressed up against the window. He heard shifting behind him and didn’t even have to turn his face to know Minho was breathing over his shoulder. Damn that habit of his.

“We are at the biggest competition we have ever been to.” Minho mumbles and Jisung gulped. He suddenly felt very nervous. 

The inside of the venue felt like a dance recital. They each had their own little dressing rooms, and the girls had all come along today for obvious reasons. Dahyun and Sana had a station set up the minute he entered.

Yeji was beside them, immediately pulling him to the entrance of a crowded bathroom. She shoved a bundle of clothes into his hands, ushering him inside and he grabbed the first stall available. 

The pants were tight and leather, with a red stripe running down the sides. Chains hung from his belt loops and crossed over his thighs. The shirt was loose and made of fleece, it hung down to mid-thigh. It was loose around the neck too, showing off his tattoo depending on how he let it fall. He decided showing the tattoo was a good thing.

When he stepped out of the stall, he couldn’t help but notice the eyes that lingered on him. Were they wondering what instrument he played? Did he look out of place? 

Yeji was still outside when he left the bathroom and she threw a pair of combat boots in his hands as she clasped a thin, black choker around his neck. She walked him back to the dressing room, rambling away about how excited she was to see them perform. Jisung kept his head down.

Back in the dressing room, Minho and Chan were already changed and chatting with their stylists. Minho was in a red silk shirt, his collarbones on full display. It should not have been that attractive. 

Dahyun motioned him over with a smirk and he didn’t fail to notice the look she sent Sana. Jisung hesitantly lowered himself into the chair and Sana began her attack on his hair almost instantly. 

“So,” Dahyun dragged out, as she wiped his face completely clean, “how's your little plan going?” 

She kept her voice low in favor of seeming discreet. Jisung appreciated it. 

“Really well, actually. He likes me.” He whispered back and Dahyun dropped a makeup sponge. She immediately gathered her bearings and changed it out for a new one, but her face said it all. 

“Are you guys…?” Sana trailed off, completely unsure of how to phrase her next words. Jisung picked up on her struggle. He couldn’t even define what was going on right now. 

“No. Not yet anyway.” He grinned and basked in the way Sana’s shocked expression mirrored Dahyun’s. Both of them took a moment to register what he’d said, and then they grinned as well. 

Dahyun clapped his shoulder in a silent showing of support. She began during his makeup to avoid any attention, but he could see the gleam in her eyes as she worked.

Time passed like it was stuck in fast forward. Once everyone was done getting ready, they had time to practice what they could before getting called to the lineup backstage. People were still watching Jisung when he passed, but it seemed like there were even more of them now. It made him nervous to see so many of them, blank-faced and staring. 

A hand slowly wrapped around the back of his neck and he looked up to see Minho right beside him, eyes focused straight ahead as his fingers made soothing patterns. It eased his nerves a little, more than he’d like to admit. Minho didn’t let go when they got in line.

“I don’t think I like them all staring.” He mumbled. The way Minho’s eyebrow twitched signaled that he’d heard him. The soothing patterns continued.

“You’re a rockstar, your job is to be stared at.” He joked and Jisung forced a laugh while jabbing his finger into Minho’s side. Minho laughed back.

“I feel like they are judging me.” He whispered back. His defense put a steady end to Minho’s laughing, who continued the movements on his neck and leaned closer.

“Sungie,” He said right in Jisung’s ear, “they’re not staring because they’re judging you. They’re staring because you’re hot.” 

Jisung swears he could’ve punched something right then. The man whose face he’d spent hours admiring was telling him  _ he  _ was hot? Was it normal for knees to feel this weak? He settled for lightly punching Minho on the arm, who threw up his hands. 

They were backstage for what felt like hours with all the prying eyes around them, but Minho’s techniques helped ease him into a much better mood. The bands before them all played two songs, and some had very different styles from them. Jisung found it interesting and wondered how the scores were weighed. 

Soon enough, there was a man coming backstage, telling them to prepare for their chance onstage. Jisung’s nerves skyrocketed and even the rhythmic movement at the back of his neck couldn’t help. The band in front of them finished and they were being ushered on stage in seconds. Jisung didn’t have performance anxiety, but he was feeling the pressure now more than ever.

The sound of the crowd cheering made his ears ring and the overhead booming voice had him flinching. Just before they parted, Jisung felt Minho reach over and squeeze his hand. 

He sat behind the drumset, watching his bandmates take their places at the front. Chan gave them a few extra seconds to settle, and then he gave Jisung the signal.

+++

They passed.

The results were emailed out not even an hour after the competition ended. 

They were loading up the vans and helping the girls with their makeup stations and clothing racks, while Chan was sweeping the dressing room and Changbin was wiping down tables and door handles, when they received word. Allen was the first to get the message. He asked Chan to check his phone while he helped Mina load a makeup station into the van. 

Chan’s face went stark white when he saw the notification on the phone, and then he was screaming.

“The results are out!” He shouted and they all immediately abandoned their tasks to crowd around him. Allen entered his passcode and pulled up his email account and they all watched as Chan clicked on the document. It was a list of the bands who had passed.

_ The Macks, Magix and The Hounds, Manic… _

Manic. 

All at once, they flew apart. There were cheers from everybody in the small dressing room and Jisung found himself being roped into a hug by Dahyun and Sana as well. Minho came to him almost immediately after the girls released him, and his arms wrapped around Jisung’s back in a tight grip. Jisung felt absolutely euphoric.

+++

They passed the second round too, playing the same set they had the night before in what was an elimination round. Now, it was the Friday Final. 

They’d survived the cuts and had become finalists among twenty other bands. It was a huge accomplishment, one Jisung’s brain had yet to even recognize the weight of. He hadn’t slept well the night before, consumed by his thoughts and anxieties about the finals. Hyunjoon stayed up with him, dismissing every doubt he had about himself.

As for Minho, he looked more alive than ever. The entire morning, he was buzzing around the room. It took Ryujin, his wardrobe stylist, and Momo, his makeup artist, to finally get him settled down long enough for Jihyo to do his hair.

Even then, he was vibrating in his seat for every minute of it.

Chan appreciated his energy, judging by the way he kept nervously smiling every time someone met his eye. He would never say it out loud as to not worry the others, but he was stressed. Allen seemed to recognize that feeling and stuck close by at all times. 

Seungmin and Changbin pretended to be indifferent, but Jisung caught the way Changbin nibbled in his guitar pick and the way Seungmin’s nails looked bitten beyond belief. They were nervous too. Everybody was, except one.

Leave it to Minho to be the odd man out.

This time, he wasn’t  _ as  _ nervous when they got called to line up. After two nights of doing this, he’d kind of gotten used to the feeling in his gut. He still very much appreciated the fingers at the back of his neck soothing his nerves. 

When their name was called, he forced himself to brave a smile as they walked on. The crowd was bigger tonight, the noise louder and the stakes higher. They were performing three songs tonight, all different from the previous rounds. He spotted Jeongin and Hyunjin in the front row, both with huge signs and big smiles. It made him more at ease seeing their faces.

The first song went over great. The crowd loved it and their energy was higher than Jisung had ever seen it. They were having fun more than anything and Jisung realized that he didn’t care about the competition anymore. He was where he belonged. 

The second song went over even better and Minho had even danced over to Jisung’s drumset mid-song to bring more attention to him. Minho rocked around the drumset, and put his back up against Changbin’s during the solo. Jisung’s eyes landed on an unneeded set of drums left sitting out just a little bit behind him, and he was struck with a sudden idea. 

The third song, Jisung interrupted just as they began to introduce it.

“Hold on.” He said into his microphone and removed it from its stand. Chan shot a look at him and the others matched it.  _ What are you doing? _ Jisung rose from behind the drum set. Breathe in, breathe out.

“I believe members build a band.” He began, voice shaky as he crossed the stage to the front. He avoided the eyes of the judges and those of the audience for the most part. He stared directly at his friends in the crowd, finding confidence in their smiling faces.

“Manic was built of five members. Our leader and lead singer,” He gestured to Chan who bowed experimentally and received applause almost immediately, “our electric guitarist, our bassist, our keyboardist and a drummer.” He gestured to each of them and they each took their bows, confused.

“But we have two secret members of the band. Two members who helped build the band just as much as we did. The first secret member is you guys.” Applause hit him in waves. People cheered and clapped at his words, and it fueled his confidence even more.

“But the second secret member is actually someone who helped build Manic from the ground up. You see, I wasn't always the drummer of this incredible band. Before me, it was a really great kid who had to quit because of other things in his life. Before me, it was this kid right here.” 

He pointed directly at Jeongin and the people around him and Hyunjin all turned to look at him. Jeongin was clearly surprised, but he didn’t shy away from the attention.

“This kid doesn’t play with us anymore, but he will always be a part of the band. That’s why I want to give him an opportunity,” Jisung extended his hand, just within Jeongin’s reach, “will you play with me?”

Jeongin stood frozen for a few seconds, emotions running over his face like they were racing to see which would win. Hyunjin tapped his shoulder and broke whatever trance he was in. Making up his mind, he grinned wide and took Jisung’s hand.

He received proud smiles from his bandmates as he led Jeongin to the main drum set, changing his position to the backup drums. He gave him an encouraging nod as he sat down behind them. Chan looked back for a signal that he was ready and with a grin on his face, he gave the nod.

+++

“Han Jisung, you are fucking crazy.” 

Jeongin was smiling so big, Jisung was afraid his face would crack open.

Their last song was the biggest hit of the night, and the applause carried on long after they’d exited the stage. As soon as it ended, Jeongin was shouting, but his words held no weight when he beamed the way he did. Jisung didn’t regret for a second doing what he had done.

“I told you. You’re part of the band.” He shrugged and Jeongin somehow grinned wider. In one fell sweep, he yanked Jisung into a hug and held on so tight he squeezed the air out of Jisung’s lungs. The others around him laughed and made no move to help him. When Jeongin released him, he had to take deep breaths to regain control. 

Hyunjin came barreling backstage, pushing straight through the crowd of bands to get to them. He grabbed Jeongin and Jisung into a hug the minute he saw them, the force of it causing Jisung to stumble back a little. Luckily, Minho appeared behind him and caught his forearms. 

“Oh my god, you two were so incredible! I haven’t seen Jeongin play in so long and oh my gosh, you guys just sound great together!” Hyunjin resorted to curling around his boyfriend and giggling at the whine he got in response.

“I don’t know, I'd say we all did pretty great.” Minho joked from behind Jisung. Before he could turn around and hit his arm, he felt both of Minho’s wrapping around his shoulders. A chin rested on his shoulder. 

“You looked really happy, Innie.” He added with a serious voice and Jeongin beamed. The others surrounded them soon enough, all chatting about how Jeongin still had it and commenting about how wild of a performance that had been.

They stayed in that position while they talked, Minho draped over Jisung’s back and Jisung pretending not to notice it. When everybody finally started going to their separate groups, it was Felix who turned to them.

“Are you guys dating?” He asked. Jisung could feel Minho stiffen. It was a slight movement, but their proximity didn’t leave much room for sneaky gestures. Minho’s grip around him loosened as he pulled away a bit. 

“We aren’t,” He said casually. He planned to keep it at that, but the confused look Felix shot them prompted an elaboration. “I just really like him.” 

Felix’s eyes got wide as he glanced between them. Jisung couldn't see Minho’s face and he wasn’t going to turn around and look. It was the truth and they both knew it, what was the point in hiding it?

“Oh,” Felix replied, “I’m sorry?”

Jisung forced himself to laugh. “Don’t be.”

One glance and he saw the look in Minho’s eyes. He tried to nudge him, send some sign that everything was fine, but he got no response. Minho was already a million miles away. He must be uncomfortable.

Jisung striked up another conversation with Felix, steering them away from the topic and he was grateful when Felix went along with it. Gradually, he made non-verbal excuses to move away from Minho’s grasp. If he was uncomfortable, Jisung wouldn’t push it. 

Despite unraveling himself from the other boy, he didn’t fail to notice the eyes that followed him when he moved. Every word out of his mouth had Minho’s eyes drawing back to him. He must’ve been quite distressed about it if he couldn’t even join the conversation.

His face was blank and unreadable, and he still chose not to move from his spot. That didn’t make much sense but Jisung had learned long ago to stop trying to make sense of the unexplainable. Minho fell under that category often. 

He had to accept it for it was, the only simplistic answer that offered any kind of solution. If he read the signs wrong, and Minho did not share his feelings––which he was now acknowledging as being very probable––continuing to go about his day in ignorance would no longer be an option. If he hadn’t read them wrong and by some miracle, he was correct, then Minho had some issues that needed to be worked through.

Both made sense.

For once, Han Jisung stopped worrying about his placement on the board, because there was only ever one winner. He’d never lost a game, but there may be a first time for everything.

+++

The ride home was filled with snoozing and soft chatter. The results of the competition would be emailed out in the next few days. As fun as competing had been, Jisung couldn’t wait to fall into his bed and just crash.

They brought the van back to the studio and Changbin offered to drive Jisung back to campus. He accepted without a second thought, too tired to sit and wait at a bus stop. He climbed in the back, as he usually did, and left the front for the roommate.

The ride to campus was uncharacteristically silent, no bickering or music or bickering about music. Radio silence. It solidified everything he had been thinking. Minho’s silence only proved his discomfort further. Honestly, Jisung should’ve seen this coming. 

He got out of the car the minute it pulled up to his campus dorms, bidding them both a quick goodbye. He began his trek across the courtyard, trying to push his away his worries about Minho in favor of wondering what Hyunjoon thought of the show. He hadn’t been able to come backstage, since Sunwoo was uncomfortable with the amount of people.

“Jisung!” A sudden voice startled him. 

He turned around in time to see Minho, practically tripping over his own feet as he climbed out of the car. He slammed the door the minute he gained footing and began running full speed to where Jisung had stopped.

Minho came to a stop just in front of him, his chest heaving and out of breath. His hair was pushed back on his forehead by the wind and his eyes were filled to the brim with emotion. It was a sight Jisung didn’t recognize. 

“If I told you I just wanted to be friends, what would you have said?”

Oh. That was not what Jisung expected. Granted, he didn’t really know what he  _ had  _ expected. He read the signs wrong. Minho ran halfway across his college courtyard to reject him.

“I would’ve said okay. Your friendship means more to me than those feelings.” He answered completely truthfully for the first time in years. He often danced around the truth, he was almost never straight up, but he decided he was going to start telling it today.

“And if I said I wanted to be…” Minho was still panting and he paused to take a deep breath, his eyes closing in frustration, “...more than friends. What would you say?”

Oh.

_ Oh. _

“I don’t know. I would like that too, obviously, but I wouldn’t want you to do something you aren’t ready to do. We could wait, if you wanted.” He didn’t know where this conversation was going by now but he figured being totally honest couldn’t be a bad thing here.

Being this transparent in his answer put a weird taste in his mouth, like lying for the first time had. He’d become so accustomed to the taste of lying that his tongue no longer remembered what truth tasted like. But maybe he liked truth a little more.

“I don’t want to wait.” 

He stood stunned, frozen under harsh street lamps and campus walkway lights. This was not a conversation that should be happening in the early hours of morning with one of their roommates waiting in a running car for them to go home. They were both tired and strung to the end of their limits, but Jisung couldn’t think of a time he would’ve rather had the conversation.

“What—“

Minho shut him up before he even spoke. 

He’d read romance novels in high school. There was usually some scene, depending on the type you read, about how the other person’s lips felt. Some described them like pillows and the softest things in the world, some said they’re chapped and disgusting. Some people heard fireworks when they kissed someone. Jisung heard nothing. 

Minho’s lips weren’t anything he’d heard described before. He didn’t focus on the feeling on them alone, he focused on the feeling of them on his own. He didn’t hear fireworks, but his own heart in his ears. He didn’t suddenly feel like everything was going to be fine, but he felt okay for once. 

Like a puzzle piece. 

An overdone metaphor that made too much sense. They were puzzle pieces but their picture wasn’t yet complete. It was on its way. 

The feeling of Minho’s lips on his felt like victory.

Checkmate.

Minho pulled away, his face burning bright red and eyes wide. It seemed to really hit him, in that exact moment, what he’d done. It was equally embarrassing for Jisung, who could do nothing to find his voice at the moment.

His cheeks burned under Minho’s eyes and he forced himself to look away. His line of sight drifted past Minho and happened to land on the dorm. Specifically, his dorm.

Standing in the window, with his mouth hanging open and eyes blown wide, he saw Hyunjoon slapping at a stunned Sunwoo’s shoulder. The two of them had their jaws on the floor. Jisung let out a string of chuckles.

Minho turned too, peering up at the window with nothing short of contempt. A shadow crossed his face and he glared at Hyunjoon through the window. 

Minho spun around, and in one swift movement, he grabbed Jisung’s cheeks in between his palms and kissed him again. Jisung stumbled, using Minho’s forearms to steady himself. When he pulled back, there was a newfound fire in his eyes.

Jisung let out a loud laugh. 

“Even now—“

“Say less.”

Minho leaned forward and kissed him again. Jisung laughed again, but let his lips interlock with the older’s. 

Something changed in Minho. He still didn’t make sense, he never would, but their game was over. Jisung had won, but Minho was the reason he got to taste victory. 

Minho watched from the courtyard as he went up to his dorm, the same way he had many times before. It was different now.

There was still a lot to talk about, but for now, this was alright. He bumped into Sunwoo as the latter was exiting his room. The boy smiled at him, sending him an encouraging thumbs-up as he ducked into the room a few doors down.

Hyunjoon was freaking out, his screaming would inevitably land them a noise complaint to their RA, but that was a problem for the future versions of them. Right now, Hyunjoon shouted and jumped on his bed while Jisung buried his reddening face into a pillow and denied his existence.

Minho liked him. And now it was clear.

+++

There were rules to every game of chess.

First, control the center. Location is key, and placing your pawns in the middle to control as many of the squares as you can is an important move.

Second, you need to make a move. Knights and Bishops should be out and about as early as possible, especially for a decent checkmate. 

Third, castle as soon as possible. Winning if your king isn’t safe is almost impossible and developing your queen with your rooks immediately after is good strategy. 

Fourth, keep your pieces protected. Every piece is valuable and the more pieces on the board, the more room for there is for checkmate opportunities.

Finally, checkmate in good nature. 

Han Jisung would say he checkmated in the best nature.

A mass email told them the results for the Battle of the Bands would be sent out Sunday night. His phone had rang almost instantly, and he answered just as quickly.

“Meet me outside your dorm at seven tomorrow.” Was all Minho said before the phone clicked shut. Jisung huffed a laugh to himself and made sure to knock on Yunho’s door that day.

Hyunjoon insisted on styling his outfit for the day, and Jisung reluctantly complied. The entire Sunday was dedicated to Hyunjoon picking out the  _ perfect  _ outfit to match Yunho’s makeup look. Their dorm was a rotating door of stylists. He barely managed to slip away in time to jog down to the courtyard. 

Minho was standing right in the center. The beams from a setting sun washed over his frame. Pinks and oranges faded in and out of each other in the distance, setting off the deep freshly-dyed blue hues of Minho’s hair. Two big bright eyes focused on his approach.

Minho didn’t say anything, he didn’t have to. His hand moved from behind his back, a single pink aster in his hand. Jisung saw the flower and grinned even wider. 

They didn’t talk for the majority of their walk to the bus station, but Minho’s hand slipped easily into his as they came up on it. Jisung blindly followed the boy as he got off at the third stop, and dragged him to an empty playground. 

“Roses are cliché and overdone. I don’t like them.” Minho said as he climbed up the slide and into the space. Jisung shook his head and mimicked his foot placements.

He misstepped and almost went tumbling to the ground, but Minho reached out quickly and secured his waist. 

The space was too small for two grown men, but Minho didn’t seem to mind the close proximity for once. Jisung twirled the aster through his fingers as night began to fall around them.

“Why aster then?” He finally asked, and Minho looked directly at the flower. He reached forward, running the top of his finger over the delicate petal, letting it fall back into place.

“They represent Venus.” He tried to shrug it off but all Jisung focused on was the effort he’d put into it.

“You really like me, don’t you?” He meant it to be teasing. He didn’t expect Minho to give an actual answer.

“I like you as much as you like me.” 

“Well, that’s not true.” Jisung countered and they both broke into soft laughter. The world around them faded into darkness, the sounds of people bustling through the streets became background noise. Night had fallen.

Minho reached out, his emotions clear on his face for once as he slotted his fingers through Jisung’s. He frowned suddenly, then looked Jisung in the face.

“In case it wasn’t fully clear,” His voice was barely above a whisper, “I do like you.”

“I know.” Jisung smiled and shifted closer to the older. He hummed in response and looped his leg under Jisung to bring them even closer. His free hand traveled up Jisung’s arm, finding the little assortment of bracelets he liked. His neck fell back as he watched the blooming stars.

“You remember that night after the concert when we watched the stars and I actually sounded like an intellectual for the first time in my life?” 

Jisung laughed, but he nodded along. He did remember that, it was one of the nights that stuck out to him the most when he thought of Minho. 

“I didn’t actually know what I was talking about.” Minho admitted. 

“Do you ever?”

“Don’t be rude.”

Minho smacked his arm lightly and Jisung just laughed harder. The bassist kept his eyes on the sky, moving charms and woven materials from the bracelets through his fingers. 

A comfortable silence enveloped them again. A thousand questions still sat unanswered in the air, but they didn’t have to answer them immediately. Jisung was just glad to have some sort of clarity. However long Minho needed, he would give him.

Several minutes passed before Minho spoke again. 

“Labels don’t have to be a part of this, if you don’t want them to be.” He spoke quietly, but firmly. Jisung dropped his head forward, staring at the older.

“I don’t mind them, personally. But the same goes for you.” 

“I think…” Minho trailed off, a familiar redness coating his cheeks, “...I don’t mind labels with you. I wouldn’t mind being whatever you want me to be.”

His reddening cheeks, his starry eyes, his little smile when he shyly admitted it. It was all way too much for Jisung.

“I love you.”

Woah. 

The words left his lips before he even had time to process the thought. His hand flew to his mouth in an instant. He didn’t regret the words, he realized, but he did not mean to say them. His heart was beating out of his chest, his tongue burned with the aftermath of the words.

“Don’t say anything. Please, don’t say anything.” He pleaded and Minho stared back in silence. He nodded, and squeezed Jisung’s fingers tight.

“The stars are beautiful.” Minho murmured and Jisung let out a sigh of relief. 

They were together when the email came in. 

Minho pulled out his phone immediately, moving to sit directly beside Jisung. Both boys leaned over as they opened it, only to see their names lit up in bright blue writing. Screams left their chests and the groupchat was in a frenzy in a minute. 

Minho reached forward, securing his hand around Jisung’s neck and kissing him  _ hard.  _ Jisung kissed back with just as much vigor, euphoria rushing through his veins.

Both pulled away in happy laughter, staring at the email and the ones that followed. They would be on a local talk show Wednesday morning and had multiple meetings to attend afterwards, and Jisung’s heart just kept on pounding with the excitement of everything happening.

+++

“Welcome back everyone. This morning, we have a very special guest here with us, this year’s Battle of the Bands winner, Manic! Why don’t you boys introduce yourselves.”

The talk show host was a middle-aged woman, with a blonde bob and chunky brown highlights. She wore a kind smile as she gestured to them and the applause in the audience died down. Jisung could feel the weight of the camera on him.

Chan, Minho and Changbin sat on the couch in the front, Jisung and Seungmin had chosen to sit on the stools behind them. They went down the line, introducing themselves and waving to the cameras. When it finally got to Jisung, he had to remind himself to take a deep breath.

“Hey everyone, I’m Jisung and I’m the handsome drummer of Manic.” His introduction received multiple cheers from the crowd and the talk show host mimicked his words with faked enthusiasm. 

He chose to keep quiet unless the questions came to him directly. Questions like his decision at Battle of the Bands and what it was like coming into a pre-established group. Chan answered most song-writing and performance questions.

“I do have to ask, though.” The host grinned at them innocently, folding her hands on the chair, “Everyone is dying to know whether the new heartthrobs of this generation have anybody  _ special _ in their lives?” 

Chan laughed it off, explaining that he was usually too busy for anything long term. The host didn’t accept the answer so easily, instead, turning to the other members. Changbin answered the same, but then she got to the other three.

“It's very widely known that I’ve been in a long-term relationship for about three years now.” Seungmin answered with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “My partner isn’t someone I try to keep a secret.”

The crowd all cheered for him. Then, eyes fell on Minho. He hesitated.

“I do have someone very special in my life, but I’m not exactly the flashy type.”

_ Bullshit _ . 

Then, everybody was looking at Jisung.

“Yeah, I have someone very special to me as well, but we kind of have an agreement to keep things more on the down low.” The host said something about being mysterious and the roar of the crowd filled the studio, but Jisung only saw how Minho’s hand dipped behind the couch and he shifted in his seat to discreetly hold it.

The interview continued on for another few minutes, but Jisung didn’t hear a single word of it, just content with the feeling of Minho’s hand in his.

+++

Vulnerability. 

To be vulnerable, means to be unguarded. It means relinquish. It means opening yourself up.

The night Minho had recklessly chased after him on his college campus, and had completely gone against everything he’d worked to establish, he opened himself up. 

It had been months since that night, and everyday Minho worked to be more open about himself than what he’d been showing. It wasn’t always easy, they knew it wouldn’t be, but he tried. That was all Jisung could ask of him.

He still refrained from repeating the words Jisung had said on the playground. It didn’t hurt him, because he knew exactly why Minho didn’t want to say them. Minho didn’t want to say something he didn’t mean and he was constantly afraid of hurting Jisung.

Still, he was clingy and surprisingly a hopeless romantic in private. When it was just the two of them, he showed his colors and Jisung could paint the whole sky with them.

Now, as the band stood around their studio, brainstorming for new song ideas, Jisung realized he meant those words more than ever.

Minho had a magazine interview, one he was already late for and tripping over his feet to get to. He rushed out a goodbye to the group and all but flew out of the door.

“Wait!” Jisung called after him, holding the bundle of notecards Minho had written the night before, “Don’t forget your—“

Minho rushed back in the room, frantic. He spotted Jisung with the cards and a little weight came off his shoulders. He grabbed them out of Jisung’s hand, stuffing them into his pocket.

“God, I love you.” He whispered as he pecked Jisung on the lips before running out again.

Jisung stood frozen, alongside the rest of the members. They all sent him looks of utter disbelief and he couldn’t say his was much different. Minho banged the door open a third time, out of breath and disheveled.

“We will talk about that later.” He pointed directly at Jisung and it broke the younger’s trance.

“Go! You have an interview!” He shouted, pushing Minho out and closing the door behind him. He could hear the loud footsteps as they padded down the hall and he smiled to himself.

“Love you too.” He whispered.

+++

“And here comes Han, bringing up the rear!” Minho shouted, clapping his hands together in joy. Jisung rolled his eyes.

He was last. For the first time, he was the last one done. Behind the stage at the Sweet Bean for their weekly Saturday night performances, as his boyfriend poked fun at him, Jisung was the last getting ready and had a debt to pay for it.

“Where’s your money, Han?” Minho poked his ribs. He knew he hated that.

“I don’t have any. Is there another way I could pay you?” He shoved Minho’s hands away, grabbing at them and holding them secure in his grasp. Minho smirked.

“What did you have in mind?”

Jisung grinned and leaned up to kiss him. 

They were met with sounds of disgust from their group members, all groaning and booing or some variation of. Jisung laughed against Minho’s lips.

“That good enough?”

“A five dollar kiss for a ten dollar debt?” He teased and pulled Jisung back in to kiss him deeper.

He’s pretty sure a shoe flew past their heads.

But he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Checkmate.”

  
  
  


“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk to bloom” - Anais Nin.


End file.
